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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28030356">my true love gave to me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ithoughtyoulikedmereckless/pseuds/Ithoughtyoulikedmereckless'>Ithoughtyoulikedmereckless</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Riverdale (TV 2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>But the fun kind, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Future AU, Mutual Pining, declaration of love through cookies, fake dating au, fluffy fluff, just so many holiday things crammed into one fic, so much miscommunication, two idiots in love who think the other one could never</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:15:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>41,259</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28030356</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ithoughtyoulikedmereckless/pseuds/Ithoughtyoulikedmereckless</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Betty has been harboring feelings for her roommate for over two years now, when she gets Jughead as her gift recipient for 12 Day of Christmas she knows it’s time to tell him how she feels. What better way to tell him than through baked goods?</p><p>Unknown to his roommate, Jughead has had feelings for her since they met in freshman year of college. Now that they’re both adults and it’s Christmas, Jughead thinks it’s finally time to tell her. What better way than through written word?</p><p>Oh, and one more thing? Jughead’s pretending to be Betty’s boyfriend of 6 months for a very Cooper Christmas. Where do the fake feelings end and real ones begin?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>234</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>225</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>8th Bughead Fanfiction Awards - Nominees, Home for the HoliDale</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. cookie dough</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigdsgirl/gifts">bigdsgirl</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>HELLO! </p><p>It's still finals season so I really don't know why I'm doing this, but here I am, making bad decisions. That's pretty typical though. This started out as a quick Thanksgiving fake dating one-shot and then spiraled into this ridiculousness. You can all blame (thank) Heidi, this is all her doing lol</p><p>I've got the first three chapters done and I'm hoping to be able to stay on top of it. My plan is to post a chapter everyday until Christmas but who knows if I'll be able to keep up with it. That's the hope though:)</p><p>Anyway, I hope you enjoy! </p><p>Happy Holidays, pals ❤️</p><p>- rachel</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>edible cookie dough: </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ~ ¾ cup packed brown sugar </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ~ ½ cup butter </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ~ 1 teaspoon vanilla extract </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ~ ½ teaspoon salt </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ~1 cup all-purpose flour </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ~ 2 tablespoons milk </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ~ ½ cup milk chocolate chips </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ~ ½ cup mini chocolate chips </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Directions:  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Combine brown sugar and butter in a large bowl; beat with an electric mixer until creamy. Beat in vanilla extract and salt. Add flour; mix until a crumbly dough forms. Mix in milk. Fold in milk chocolate chips and mini chocolate chips. </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>~~~</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Hey, Jug?” Betty pops her head into his room when she passes his door and sees he’s hunched over his laptop, still in his pajamas. “We have to leave in fifteen to go to Veronica and Archie’s.”</p><p> </p><p>Jughead doesn’t look up from his typing and speaks more to his laptop than to her. “I’ve still got ten minutes before I need to get dressed.”</p><p> </p><p>Shaking her head, Betty continues on her way to the kitchen and shouts over her shoulder. “Fine, but if you’re not ready when I want to go, I’m leaving you behind.”</p><p> </p><p>He’s never actually late, but it still makes Betty twitch when he waits until the very last minute to get ready. They’ve always been opposites in that way. Betty is ready to go at least a half hour before she has to go anywhere so if something catastrophic were to happen, she has a little buffer of time to deal with it. </p><p> </p><p>TEven though Betty’s had three years to adjust to Jughead’s tardy tendencies, she hasn’t. The two roommates have struggled to reconcile each other’s schedules pretty much since the day they met.  His high school best friend, Veronica Lodge, had first introduced them. She also happened to be Betty’s freshman year roommate. What had started as off screen comments during his facetime calls with Veronica had turned into a full-fledged friendship. The three of them moved into an off campus apartment that was fully paid for, courtesy of Mr. Lodge, during their sophomore year. It was in the perfect location:close enough to both the girls’ school and his. </p><p> </p><p>After graduation last spring, Veronica had decided she needed her own place, which hd left Betty and Jughead to find a slightly smaller and much more affordable place for themselves. </p><p> </p><p>“Okay, I’m getting ready now!” Jughead’s muffled voice comes from back down the hall and she chuckles to herself, remembering how Veronica used to deal with his habit. </p><p> </p><p>Although Veronica had been the real problem whenever they were trying to get somewhere on time, she would always blame Jughead. She had gone so far as to blare Justin Bieber through the apartment until he was ready to go. It worked for exactly two days, until Jughead decided to drown it out with his own speaker, playing Nickelback, which was so much worse. On the behalf of Betty’s sanity, they had both called a truce. </p><p> </p><p>Opening the fridge, Betty takes out the edible cookie dough balls covered in chocolate and red and green sprinkles that she had made earlier. She places them thoughtfully onto her Christmas Snoopy plate. When she’s covering the balls with tin foil, Jughead walks into the kitchen and gives her a little spin when she looks up. He’s wearing black skinny jeans and a maroon sweater, his beanie securely on the top of his head. Betty’s eyes linger a little too long on his chest, the sweater fitting him just so. </p><p> </p><p>“Look, all dressed and with two minutes to spare.” Jughead smiles when she rolls her eyes at him.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m very proud.” She deadpans. </p><p> </p><p>Betty waits for him to say something sarcastic in response, but she’s met with silence. Looking up, Jughead’s staring at her after coming around to her side of the island.</p><p> </p><p>“What?”</p><p> </p><p>Jughead’s eyes flicker between her skirt and her eyes briefly. “Is that,” he gestures towards her, “uh.. is that new?” </p><p> </p><p>Turning towards him, she smooths her hands down her dark grey, plaid, wool skirt. “Yeah, V got it for me last week and I figured I should wear it in front of her before she buys me three more thinking I hate it.” Betty chuckles and then twirls, imitating his actions from just moments ago, giving him a teasing smile. “Do you like it?” </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.” The word comes out slightly choked as his hand rubs the back of his neck. Clearing his throat, Jughead points at her feet and the weird energy from a moment ago disappears, his usually loose demeanor returning. “I especially like the socks.”</p><p> </p><p>Betty has socks on over her black nylons with little penguins decked out in Santa hats. </p><p> </p><p>She steps around him and smacks his arm as she passes. “Shut up, they’ll be covered by my boots, so you won’t even be able to see them.”</p><p> </p><p>He laughs. “What a shame, they really bring the whole outfit together.”</p><p> </p><p>Grabbing her boots from beside the couch, she tosses over at him, “Thanks for your fashion expertise but make yourself useful and grab the calzones out of the fridge, please?”</p><p> </p><p>“I thought Veronica said she was making food.” </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, but Reggie almost cried the last time I didn’t make my chicken, bacon, ranch calzones, so I told Veronica I’d make them.” She says all of this while awkwardly hopping on one foot, trying to get her boot on without flashing Jughead. Looking over his shoulder at her, he chuckles before sticking his head back in the fridge and she flips off his back. “All she has to do is heat them up in the oven and they’re good to go.”</p><p> </p><p>Jughead leans against the island, container of calzones in hand, laughing as he watches her struggle with her shoes. “I bet you even popped out of the womb with baked goods in hand. I don’t think we’ve ever gone somewhere where you haven’t made anything.”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t make anything the last time we had game night at Trev’s,” she says, boots finally on and her tan turtleneck re-tucked into her skirt.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s only because I ate most of the nacho dip you were going to bring before you had the chance to come home and tell me not to.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fair point.” </p><p> </p><p>They make their way out the door, goodies in hand. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>~~~</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Before they even knock, Veronica is swinging open the door to her and Archie’s apartment. </p><p> </p><p>“B!” Veronica nearly shrieks. “Oh my god! You’re <em> gorgeous </em>. Very dark academia.” She pulls Betty further into the apartment and holds her at arms length so she can study Betty’s outfit better. “See, I told you that skirt was perfect for you.”</p><p> </p><p>Betty giggles and hugs her friend. “Hi, V.”</p><p> </p><p>Jughead lets out a groan from behind her and Betty smiles when she realizes Justin Bieber’s ‘Mistletoe” is playing from what seems like every speaker in the apartment. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re kidding.” Jughead’s crossing his arms, a scowl set deep into his features, and Betty can’t stop the giggle that comes out of her at how dramatic he is. </p><p> </p><p>Veronica lets go of Betty and shuts the door before moving to pat Jughead’s cheek. “I put it on just for you, <em> hermano </em>,” she tells him, pulling a reluctant Jughead into her hug.</p><p> </p><p>They’re the second ones there, Trev had arrived a few minutes before and was already in the kitchen helping take stuff out of the oven. She makes her way over to the kitchen, leaving Jughead and Veronica to continue bickering by the door. </p><p> </p><p>“Betty!” Trev greets her with a smile as he places a pan with mozzarella sticks on a cooling rack. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Trev.” Betty gives him a quick hug before grabbing a cookie sheet from beneath the oven. “Veronica put you to work already?”</p><p> </p><p>He chuckles. “Not exactly. I offered because I actually want to eat tonight. You know as well as I do, Veronica and Archie tend to cook with an artistic layer of charcoal in all their dishes.”</p><p> </p><p>Trev is the resident sweetheart of the group, he’s never been able to say anything even remotely mean about someone. He’s hilarious without trying just by saying horrible things about people in the nicest way imaginable. </p><p> </p><p>“Beautifully put, as always, Trev.”</p><p> </p><p>“I aim to please,” he says, with a playful smirk.</p><p> </p><p>Betty hears Archie’s bellowing laugh echo down the hallway before she sees him. She’s engulfed in a bear hug not a minute later and melts into her old friend. </p><p> </p><p>It’s so nice to have him here in New York after he’d spent undergrad in California. She still finds it humorous that he fits in so well with the group, seeing how the first time they met only happened because his flight time had been mixed up and he was in the city for an extra 24 hours. He’d walked into the room, not knowing anyone but Betty, but had instantly fit right in. </p><p> </p><p>“You bring Reggie’s calzones?” he says as a way of greeting. </p><p> </p><p>“Of <em> course </em>.” Betty pulls back and continues setting the calzones onto the sheet. “Couldn’t have him crying again.”</p><p> </p><p>Archie keeps an arm around her. “I’m almost disappointed. It was so entertaining last time.”</p><p> </p><p>Before Betty can scold him, Reggie, Josie and Sweet Pea arrive and from then on it’s just complete chaos. </p><p> </p><p>They all fill their plates with way too much food and sit around the dining room table, laughing and sharing the latest work place drama. Betty is offered multiple proposals of marriage after consumption of her calzones. Each proposal is met with a tortilla chip to the head from Jughead, which sends the group into a roar of laughter. It’s funny how well they all get along, considering the only reason this all started was so that Veronica could verify that Jughead had, in fact, made friends in college and rather than make them up.</p><p> </p><p>Once dinner’s over, they all settle into the living room, Jughead sitting on the couch with Reggie and Trev while Sweet Pea sits in the arm chair, Josie balancing on the armrest and Archie sharing the loveseat with Veronica. Betty walks in from the kitchen, plate of cookie dough balls in hand. Cheers erupt throughout the room and Betty can’t help but laugh at her ridiculous friends. They were an odd bunch that probably shouldn't mesh well together but miraculously do. She places the desserts on the coffee table, takes one herself and then takes a seat on the floor at Jughead’s feet. </p><p> </p><p>Reggie starts to get up, offering her his spot on the couch, but she waves him off. “I’m good here. Thanks, Reg.”</p><p> </p><p>“You sure?”</p><p> </p><p>“Totally, this way I can annoy Jug more easily.” She hooks an arm over one of his knees and pokes him a few times. </p><p> </p><p>“Hardy-har,” he says, tugging lightly on her ponytail. </p><p> </p><p>Mid-laugh, she catches Archie’s knowing look and has to look away. She feels the tips of her ears warm and she really wants to throw a tortilla chip at him. </p><p> </p><p>“Okay! It’s name drawing time!” Veronica starts, but doesn’t get too far because she’s cut off by a chorus of moans coming from each of the boys. </p><p> </p><p>“Betty, you really have to marry me. This is <em> incredible </em>.” Sweet Pea’s staring at the cookie dough ball in front of him. </p><p> </p><p>Betty giggles but doesn’t get the chance to respond because Veronica demands their attention again.</p><p> </p><p>“If anyone gets to marry Betty, it’s me, so stop and listen to me.” </p><p> </p><p>No one reacts, used to Veronica’s declarations of love for Betty at this point, and Archie just laughs, happily putting his arm along the back of the couch, full attention focused on his girlfriend.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, so, run down.” Veronica sits on the edge of the couch and clasps her hands together.  “Usually, we do Secret Santa and we do twelve days of hectic gift giving to everyone.” The group nods, having been through this spiel at least three times. “Great, I’m glad you all follow. So this year, we’re <em> not </em>doing that.” Veronica gives Reggie a piercing stare when he starts to grumble, shutting him up real quick. “This year, we’re doing pairs and you’re going to know who it is.”</p><p> </p><p>“That doesn’t sound like much fun.” Reggie says through a mouthful of cookie dough.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, <em> Reginald </em>, since we can never keep it a secret anyway, we’re just going to know. It’ll be a lot easier.”</p><p> </p><p>“The only reason it was never kept a secret was because of  Archie,” Jughead pipes in. “We all told him so he felt like he was involved and then he would so graciously tell us all.”</p><p> </p><p>Archie drops his mouth open, looking utterly offended “No!” </p><p> </p><p>“Arch.” Betty gives him a look to say, <em> we all know it’s true </em>. </p><p> </p><p>Veronica pats his leg when he sinks back into the couch, like a child who’s had their toy taken away.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Anyway </em>, I think it’ll be easier to stick to one person, easier to keep track of. Convenience is key since we’re all adults and out of college now.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay where was this when we were in college and didn’t have a damn minute to breathe let alone drop off gifts every single day?” Sweet Pea grumbles from his seat. </p><p> </p><p>Veronica holds her chin up, very obviously not willing to budge on her new idea. “Struggling builds character. And what a fine boy you’ve turned out to be, Sweet Pea.”</p><p> </p><p>Josie squeezes Sweet Pea’s shoulder as she speaks to Veronica. “I’m guessing there’s more to the gift giving? Nothing is ever basic with Veronica Lodge’s plans.” </p><p> </p><p>“You’re absolutely correct, Josie dear! Each day, your gift needs to reflect something about your friendship with that person. It can be as simple as getting them a blue pen because that’s their favorite color. Little things like that.” Veronica explains.</p><p> </p><p>Jughead runs his hands down his legs, seemingly forgetting Betty’s arm is there. She starts to move her arm away from his when he bumps her but he quickly grabs it and puts it back, keeping his hand just out of reach. Only his pointer finger makes contact and he begins to trace a little circle against one of her knuckles. Betty refuses to look at him, knowing her heart might explode if either one of them acknowledges it. </p><p> </p><p>His rumbley voice speaks up. “Are we doing this because Reggie’s gifts are always the absolute worst?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” Veronica says simply, directed at the man in question. “And before you go trying to disagree, last year you gave us all tampons that you stole from different hipster coffee shops you went to.”</p><p> </p><p>“That took time, dedication and some illegal activity. You can’t tell me that doesn’t show how much I care.” </p><p> </p><p>“Give it up, buddy,” Trev laughs. </p><p> </p><p>“As I was saying.” Veronica takes out her phone and pulls up the notes app. “The pairs are as follows. Josie and Trev, Sweet Pea and Archie, myself and Reggie, and finally, Betty and Jughead. Gift giving begins the 13th and ends the 24th, capisce?”</p><p> </p><p>Betty gets a giddy feeling in her chest. It quickly dissipates when Veronica winks at her from across the room. Betty sticks her tongue out at her in response. No one seems to notice the interaction since Josie suggests they all play Mario Kart, putting an end to any grumbles about the new way of doing things. </p><p> </p><p>Later, when Betty is filling a container with food to take home, Veronica slides in next to her, checking her hip lightly. </p><p> </p><p>“<em> So </em>,” she drags out, “now's your chance!”</p><p> </p><p>“What are you talking about?”</p><p> </p><p>“You should tell Jughead you love him!”</p><p> </p><p>Betty nearly drops the container filled with chicken wings and glares at her old roommate. </p><p> </p><p>“I paired myself with <em> Reggie </em>so that you could have Jug. Don't let me down, B. Think about how romantic it would be!” Veronica clasps her hands together, a far off look on her face. </p><p> </p><p>Grabbing more food with the tongs in her hand, Betty avoids her gaze and stays focused on the food, knowing Veronica will see right through her. “I don’t know, V. There’s no way he feels the same and imagine trying to live with him after the rejection?  I just—it seems like a bad idea.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s been your excuse for the past three years.” Veronica puts a hand on her arm and Betty’s forced to look at her. “It’s garbage. You’re just afraid of being happy, B. Take it from me, I’ve known him since we were seven. He <em> loves </em>you Betty.” Veronica lets go of her hand and nudges Betty’s shoulder with her own. “He just needs a little nudge.”</p><p> </p><p>Betty puts the container down and crosses her arms, facing Veronica. “I know you’re trying to help, but I just—I like the way things are now. I don’t want anything to disrupt that.”</p><p> </p><p>Veronica reflects Betty’s position, quirking a single eyebrow up at her. “Like I didn’t want to change my friends-with-benefits situation with Archie but his best friend who’s known him since they were seven suggested I act on my feelings? Like that?”</p><p> </p><p>Stumped, Betty grabs the lid to the container and snaps it shut. “I’ll think about it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yay! I can’t wait to be your kids’ godmother.” Veronica kisses her on the cheek and skips away. </p><p> </p><p>Betty’s left with a tightness in her chest. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>~~~</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Betty and Jughead don’t say much on the subway as they head home since it’s pretty crowded. She’s never been a fan of the subway, but especially when it’s as busy as it is now. The close quarters make her nervous and she becomes hyper aware of every movement that’s going on around her. </p><p> </p><p>Jughead shifts his feet away from the people standing in front of him, in the process, he hits her foot with his own. He leaves it there, and she feels a sense of ease wash over her. Looking up at him, he offers her a soft smile, moving his hands to the edge of his leg, so he can press his pinky against her thigh. </p><p> </p><p>She takes that as an invitation and rests her head against his shoulder, pulling out her phone to open her messages to Veronica. <em> This </em>. This is what she wants. This sense of ease and safety, one that he provides to simply. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I’m going to do it </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Locking her phone, she allows her eyes to close briefly. </p><p> </p><p>The feelings of warmth, comfort, and love need to be incorporated into his gifts. He needs to know how he makes her feel. There’s no other way to show him that than a new homemade cookie each day. Cookies are the only way to encapsulate those feelings.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>~~~</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Jughead puts the container of leftovers in the fridge while Betty collapses on the couch. She kicks off her boots and stretches her legs along the cushions while closing her eyes, finally enjoying the bliss of the sweet sound of silence.</p><p> </p><p>Then her phone rings.</p><p> </p><p>Picking it up, she lets out a groan. It’s her mother. <em> Wonderful. </em></p><p> </p><p>She plasters on a fake smile and answers, hoping the smile bleeds into her voice. “Hi, Mom!” </p><p> </p><p>“Hi, sweetheart. I was just calling to confirm that Adam is still coming for Christmas?”</p><p> </p><p>Betty freezes, who the hell is<em> —oh.  </em></p><p> </p><p>Adam is the boyfriend Betty had told her mom she’s been dating for six months. Who is, in fact, not real.</p><p> </p><p>Alice takes her hesitation as an invitation to keep talking. “He’s all I’ve been able to talk about since you brought him up at Thanksgiving, honey. I think he’ll fit in really well with our family. It’ll be so nice to finally see you with a nice, respectable man.”</p><p> </p><p>Betty rolls her eyes. She’s never really had a steady boyfriend. In high school, she’d hated everyone in their school except for Archie (they had kissed once and both washed their mouths out with soap after, they’ve never spoken about it again). And then in college, she’d dated casually, not really having the time for a serious relationship when she was so focused on her degree. She’d flirted plenty, being a girl in mechanical engineering having exactly two perks and about three hundred downfalls, the abundance of arrogant men to flirt with being one of them. This is all to say, her mother is very concerned about the limited amount of grandchildren she’s going to have if Betty doesn’t settle down soon. Something, her mother is <em> extremely </em> vocal about. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, Mom. He’ll be there.” She’ll say anything to get her mom to stop talking at this point. Her mind is racing with about a million thoughts, running a mental list of countries she can flee to, maybe changing her identity so she won’t have to go home for Christmas.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh that’s marvelous, dear! I’m already planning the menu. I hope he likes cheesecake!”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s his favorite, so that’ll be great.” </p><p> </p><p>“Okay. Well, it was great to talk to you, I’m going to go tell Dad the great news and finish up decorating the hallway. Polly and the twins are coming by tomorrow to help put the ornaments up. It’s such a shame you’re so far away. We miss you very much, Elizabeth. Talk soon! I can’t wait to meet Adam.” Without waiting for a response, Alice hangs up the phone and Betty flops to the side,  screaming into the couch cushion. </p><p> </p><p>Betty only opens her eyes when she feels Jughead’s hand on her ankles, lifting them up so he can sit on the couch, plopping them back in their spot, now in his lap. </p><p> </p><p>“Alice?”</p><p> </p><p>Betty flops over again, sliding her hands down her face and lets out a groan. “How’d ya guess?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, you know, the pure joy that’s radiating off of you, and the sounds of excitement leaving your mouth.” He smiles down at her.</p><p> </p><p>“I not only made it through school and ended with a mechanical engineering degree, but I graduated at the top of my class, yet I can’t figure out how to get through Thanksgiving dinner without ruining my own life.” She lifts her head, gesturing vaguely to the air in front of her before dropping her head against the armrest again. “I’m actually the dumbest person I know.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re the smartest person I know, so where’s that put me?” He says, and she can hear the smile in his voice. </p><p> </p><p>“In deep shit.” </p><p> </p><p>Jughead barks out a laugh. “Okay, what’s up, Betts?” He squeezes one of her ankles. “What has Alice done this time?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not even entirely her this time! It’s my own doing.” Betty sits up so she can see his face while she explains. “When I was home for Thanksgiving, my mom kept talking about my lack of boyfriend and how she had a bunch of eligible men that she knows would be more than happy to date me.” She giggles at the disgusted face Jughead makes, one she doesn’t think he notices he’s making. “I told her I was dating some guy named Adam for the past six months so that she would just <em> stop talking </em> .” Jughead’s eyes widen. “I <em> know </em>, Juggie! But, what else was I supposed to do?” </p><p> </p><p>“Not that.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s incredibly helpful, thank you.” </p><p> </p><p>He grins widely at her, eyes squinting enough to make them shut. She pushes his face softly as she laughs. He always knows how to defuse her panic and her heart flutters at the thought. </p><p> </p><p>“Anyway, now I have to find a random guy to be my ‘Alice Cooper Approved Boyfriend’ for Christmas. I can’t show up with only myself because then my mom’ll know I’ve been lying to her about having a boyfriend for the past month. How did I get myself into this mess?” Betty drags her hands down her face again. “Is it really so bad that I just wanted an end to the constant badgering about giving her grandbabies? I’m only twenty-three for goodness sake!”</p><p> </p><p>During her rambling, she’s slowly invaded his space to where she now sits on her heels, hands braced onto his shoulders. “This is a disaster. A <em> disaster! </em> Can you <em> imagine </em> how bad it’s going to be if I show up alone, Jug? <em> Can you? </em>” </p><p> </p><p>Jughead looks at her with an amused smirk. “Breathe, Betts. You’re going to turn blue if you don’t take in some oxygen and then we’ll have a whole other problem to deal with.”</p><p> </p><p>Betty smacks his chest, and furrows her eyebrows at him. “Are you going to help me or do I need to send out an application for a new roommate?”</p><p> </p><p>Reaching up, Jughead smooshes her cheeks together with one hand, giving her face a slight shake. “Only Alice Cooper brings this level of dramatics out of you. You’re rivaling Veronica levels right now. It’s kind of scary.” </p><p> </p><p>She sticks her tongue out and he laughs, her face apparently looking ridiculous still squished in his hand.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s a great come back, Betty.” He releases her face and his hand skims down her arm in a comforting gesture. “Let me text the guys, okay? I’m sure one of them would love to be your fake boyfriend.” He’s already reaching for his phone as he speaks. “Pretty much all of them are half in love with you, anyway.” </p><p> </p><p>Betty lurches forward, grabbing his hand before he can unlock his phone. “Jug,” she says, “I don’t want to lead any of them on. If I let them fake date me for the week, I don’t want them to think there’s a chance of something… <em> more </em> once it’s over.” She begins to wring her hands and avoids his eyes. The real reason she doesn’t want any of the other guys is because, really she doesn’t want to play with her own feelings. There’s a certain someone that may or may not be in front of her that she will reluctantly admit that she loves. </p><p> </p><p>“I think they know that if nothing’s happened yet, it’s not going to.” Betty thinks there might be a trace of bitterness, but it’s so fleeting she’s sure she’s imagined it. “Plus, I’d beat them up if any of them did smething stupid. So would Archie” </p><p> </p><p>Betty squirms and she prays the blush she feels on her cheeks isn’t visible. “I just wouldn’t want to play around with anyone’s feelings.” </p><p> </p><p>Jughead shifts down the couch more, the back of his head resting against the couch, and he stares at the ceiling.. “Well, who else are you gonna bring?”</p><p> </p><p>Dropping her shoulders in defeat, Betty shifts so her legs rest over the back of the couch and her head hangs off the bottom cushions. “I don’t know. What if I just...<em> don’t </em> go.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, like that’d work. Not even barricading the door would stop your mother from getting to you.”</p><p> </p><p>Silence fills the space between them. </p><p> </p><p>Jughead breaks it first, suggesting, “You could try Tinder or something. Just get those family study cards ready.”</p><p> </p><p>Betty glares up at him. “Yeah, brilliant, Jug. I’d rather not get murdered this holiday season, thanks though. </p><p> </p><p>“Geez, Coop. It was just an idea.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, it was a bad one.” She chuckles and nudges his knee. </p><p> </p><p>“Got any secret friends I don’t know about that know the ins and outs of the Cooper household?”</p><p> </p><p><em> Him </em>. </p><p> </p><p>He’s the answer. It might just solve all her problems and simultaneously ruin everything. But Betty’s going to ignore that last part for now. She slaps her hand down on his thigh and he snaps his head in her direction, and she can see the complaint ready on his lips but it dies when she smiles at him, feeling slightly manic.  “I’ve got it!”</p><p> </p><p>“You actually have a secret friend I don’t know about?” he says sceptically. </p><p> </p><p>“No,” Betty swings her knees off the back of the couch, just barely missing Jughead’s face in the process. “<em> You </em>!” Her heart nearly hits the bottom of her stomach as she speaks the ridiculous words into existence. </p><p> </p><p>Jughead’s mouth drops open. “I’m sorry, <em> what </em>?”</p><p> </p><p>Betty’s back on her knees, shaking his shoulders. She feels the gears turning in her head, which she’ll admit, is usually dangerous. “You’d be the <em> perfect </em> fake boyfriend! I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before!”</p><p> </p><p>Jughead rubs the back of his neck slowly. “I don’t know Betts, your mom is pretty terrifying. She’d probably have my head if she thought we were dating <em> and </em> living together. That’s a pretty juicy scandal in her eyes.”</p><p> </p><p>Betty’s eyes widen with enthusiasm as she shakes him again. “No! This is perfect because it explains why I would make up a fake boyfriend at Thanksgiving.”</p><p> </p><p>“Betts…”</p><p> </p><p>“Come on Jug! All you’d have to do is kiss me a couple times, hold my hand and <em> maybe </em> share a room with me, but probably not because my mom is… well, she’s <em> Alice Cooper </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Jughead tries to wiggle out of her grip and get off the couch. “I don’t know…”</p><p> </p><p>She knows if she presses him enough, he’ll say yes. Is that abusing their friendship? Maybe, but she’s desperate. Betty’s hands fall from his shoulders, only to grab his hand as he gets up, keeping him from moving away. Her lower lip sticks out in a small pout and she stares up at him, giving him the best puppy eyes she can muster. </p><p> </p><p>“Come on Jug, <em> please </em> ? We already don’t have that many boundaries and you know everything about me <em> and </em>you’re my bestest friend next to Archie and Veronica. It’s just a few days with the family. You wouldn’t say no to free food, would you?”</p><p> </p><p>She can see his resolve slipping as his face starts to relax, looking slightly defeated. <em> Yes, yes! </em> “I guess you’re right,” Jughead says begrudgingly.</p><p> </p><p>Betty leans back on her ankles with a giant smile stretching across her face. “Plus, you already said your sister isn’t coming to visit until New Year’s, anyway. So I don’t want you to be alone.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay <em> fine </em>.” She squeals and jumps up to throw her arms around his shoulders, his hands coming to rest on her waist.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t know how much this means to me. You’re <em> so </em>wonderful.” she says into his shoulder. </p><p> </p><p>Jughead pulls back enough to see her face and gives her a wry grin. “I have one rule.”</p><p> </p><p>“Name it.”</p><p> </p><p>“You can’t yell at me if I steal all the covers.”</p><p> </p><p>She pulls back with a giggle and offers him her pinky. “Deal.” He rolls his eyes, playfully at her insistence that they bond the agreement with a pinky promise. Finally though, he links their fingers, stares into each other’s eyes as they lean down to kiss their thumbs.</p><p> </p><p>She knows this is probably the worst decision she’s ever made. Things could either go extremely right, or truly, deeply wrong. One day she’ll learn to shut her mouth. But probably not anytime soon. This is going to be one <em> crazy </em>Christmas.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. day 1: chocolate chip</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello!</p><p>I can't think of anything to say so...let the gift giving begin!</p><p>- rachel</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>classic chocolate chip cookies:</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>2/3 cup  light brown sugar, packed</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>2/3 cup  granulated sugar</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>8 tablespoons  unsalted butter</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>1/2 cup  vegetable shortening</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>3/4 teaspoon salt (use 1/2 teaspoon salt if you use salted butter)</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>2 teaspoons vanilla extract</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>1 teaspoon vinegar, cider or white</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>1 teaspoon baking soda</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>1 large egg</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>2 cups flour</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>2 cups semisweet chocolate chips</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~~~</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead wakes to the warm smell of freshly baked cookies filtering into his room. A soft smile spreads across his face and he breathes in deep before opening his eyes. He reaches for his phone off the night table to check the time, seeing it’s already past noon. He’d been up into the early hours of the morning writing and rewriting his first present for Betty. As it is, it’s still not as good as she deserves, but he’s not sure if he’ll ever be able to get it there. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Throwing back his comforter, Jughead grabs his glasses off the side table and doesn’t bother fixing his hair even though he knows it’s most definitely a disaster. The smell is luring him out into the kitchen; he really couldn’t give less of a care about anything else. He quickly throws on the speckled wool socks he’d taken off the night before. Betty likes to keep the apartment colder than he’d prefer: she claims they had paid for sweatshirts so they don’t need to pay for heat too. When she’s at work, he always bumps it up a few degrees, and he’s never heard her complain when she comes home, her nose rosy red from the cold. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lumbering out to the kitchen, he’s met with the soft melodies of Elvis’ crooning ‘Blue Christmas’. Betty’s sitting at the island, hands around her coffee mug and an enormous plate of cookies in front of her. He pauses, admiring the scene in front of him, her messy bun flopping to the side as she blows the hair from her eyes. He knows it’s cliche, but ever since they started living together, moments like these are some of his favorites to stumble in on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She must feel his eyes on her because she turns, offering him a bright smile. “Good morning, sleepyhead!” Betty hops off her stool and grabs the plate, walking up to him and presenting him with the pile of cookies. She holds it in front of her face and lowers it just enough so her eyes peek out from the mound and he knows she’s grinning from the look in her eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s this?” he rumbles, voices still slightly raw from sleep. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s your First Day of Christmas present!” She shuffles her feet closer, so the cookies are nearly under his nose. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On top of the cookies sits a little card with red cursive scrawled perfectly across it that says:</span>
  <em>
    <span> You can always count on a classic chocolate chip cookie to make your day better, just like I can count on you.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead freezes for a moment, blush forming on the apples of his cheeks. He stares at the beautiful script, running his eyes over it a few more times. He looks back at Betty,  joy written across her face, and he’s struck once again by just how kind her heart is. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you just going to look at them or actually eat one?” Betty’s giggle breaks through his thoughts of admiration. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can’t a guy admire the art before consuming it?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>excuse </span>
  </em>
  <span>me, sir,” she says sarcastically, a teasing smile lighting up her eyes, “I’ll just put them over here and try not to die of old age before you decide to eat one.” She turns away and goes to place the plate back onto the island. Before she gets there though, Jughead reaches over her shoulder and plucks a cookie off the top.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as the cookie hits his lips, it melts into his mouth and he moans in appreciation. It’s still warm, and so incredibly soft. Absolute perfection. The chocolate chips are still melty and he swears he has an out-of-body experience. Without fully waiting for the first bite to be gone, he’s shoving the rest of it in his mouth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty laughs, making her nose scrunch up. “I take it they pass the taste test then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tries to speak, but there’s too much cookie in his mouth, so rather than trying to speak and embarrass himself by choking, he sticks to nodding vigorously. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good! I’m so glad.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She places the plate on the island and sits back onto her stool. Jughead takes the seat next to her, the cookies right in front of him, and he grabs two more, one for each hand. He can’t help but thank Veronica for pairing them together this year. He can’t even imagine what kind of misery he’d have to go through if he were paired with Reggie. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Betts, these are seriously incredible,” he says, half of his second cookie already gone. “I’m going to have to try really hard not to eat all of these right now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s after twelve, I think it’s safe to eat as many as you want. Technically, it’s lunch time,” she says with a shrug. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gestures at her with the cookie in his right hand. “I like the way you think, Cooper.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe eat a clementine too. I can’t have my fake boyfriend dying from scurvy on me.” She nudges his leg with her foot. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He ignores the irritating flutter in his stomach at the mention of their crazy agreement. “I mean, if I had to choose a way to go, I’d definitely choose death by Betty Cooper’s cookies.” He picks up yet another circle of sugary goodness and punctuates his statement with an exaggerated bite.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty bites her lip like she’s trying not to let her smile get too big and her hand twitches on her lap before it comes to brush at the corner of his lips. His jaw stops mid-chew, his lips parted and eyes glued on Betty’s face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The tips of her ears are bright red as she snaps her hand back and makes it busy by pushing the loose tendrils of hair by her face behind her ear. “Uh, sorry, you just had, uh, a crumb.” She gestures quickly to his mouth and then sits on her hand, as if it’s the only way to keep herself from moving it again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Heat blooms across his cheeks and he winks at her, trying to play it off.  “Someone has to keep me looking presentable. Thanks, Betts.” He grabs another treat off the plate and offers it to her. “Eat one with me. You’re not going to let me pig out all by myself, are you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She shifts, freeing her hand, and takes it skeptically. “You’re the last person I would expect that sentiment from,” she says with a quirked eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure the last time I told you to share, you threatened Sweet Pea so he wouldn’t eat more than you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you miss the fact that I just ate like five of these before even considering sharing with you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Touche.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He feels Betty’s eyes on him as they eat in silence and he knows she’s trying to ask where her present is without outright saying it. Betty Cooper is polite, but she takes her Christmas presents very seriously. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll give you yours later tonight,” he says as he gets up to grab a clementine from the fridge. “I just- uh want to make sure it’s perfect before you see it.” Jughead keeps his eyes on everything but her. Then, deciding he should actually eat something other than sugar and vitamin C, he grabs a box of Annie’s mac and cheese from the cabinet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s perfect!” he hears Betty exclaim from behind him. “We should do it like this every day. Start and end the day with presents.” Her voice draws his attention away from the pot of water; when he turns around, her hands are clasped together and a giddy look has settled on her face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t realize he’s staring until Betty tilts her head at him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sounds great.” He tries to offer a smile but realizes there's already one there. </span>
  <em>
    <span>God,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he really needs to get himself under control. With perfect timing, his water begins to boil and gives him a reason to physically move himself so she's out of his line of sight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You still want to go shopping today?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He releases a laugh as he dumps the pasta into the pot. “Yeah, I couldn’t possibly shop for JB without you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure you’d do fine without me.” He looks at her over his shoulder for a brief moment and she laughs. “Okay, maybe you’re right. I have to vacuum since you were sleeping earlier. Leave in an hour?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sounds like a plan.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, Betts.” Jughead points to a pair of hideous mittens in one of the windows they pass. “I think this is the winner.” The mittens are advertised as the ultimate couples item, fitting two hands for a very cozy fit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty glances at the window and doesn’t hesitate to shut his idea down. “Absolutely not.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on! It’d be great. I’d win big brother of the year with that gift.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s atrocious.” Betty keeps walking even though he’s stopped to look at them longer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What about for Archie and Veronica?” he teases, hoping to annoy her enough to get her nose to scrunch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty finally stops. She’s holding her light blue coat in her arms with her scarf draped on top, and looks back at him. “They don’t need any help being attached to one another.” Her gaze flickers to the window again and she shakes her head like just the idea of the mittens repulses her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead catches up with her and they continue to walk past the minimalist white trees in the middle of the mall. “So you’re telling me that if the love of your life offered to share a mitten with you, you’d say no.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty laughs and raises an eyebrow at him. “The love of my life would know not to offer such a thing or possess it in the first place.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And here I thought you were the hopeless romantic of the two of us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I sure am, but I’m not twelve, Jughead. What about sweating all over each other’s  hands is romantic?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They collapse into a fit of giggles, ignoring the annoyed looks of tired holiday shoppers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty drags him into Williams Sonoma, which is cruel for someone who loves food so much. They should offer samples as a way of advertising the hardware they sell. He tells Betty as much but she ignores him. They hit a few other stores, finally finding a painted jean jacket at a local vendor that Jellybean will probably freak out over. Jughead’s aware that his company is equivalent to that of a hungry toddler at this point, but he’s hit his shopping limit and he's </span>
  <em>
    <span>hungry.</span>
  </em>
  <span> As soon as Betty pays for her last item, Jughead makes a beeline for the pretzel station across from the Yankee Candle they’re in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They take a seat at a two person table next to the venue and smile at the sweet older couple at the table next to them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead takes their trash to the garbage bin a few feet away. Once he gets there, he hears the older woman say,  “Oh, sweetheart, your boyfriend’s very handsome.” His heart nearly falls to the bottom of his stomach, his feet glued to the floor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh he’s, uh, no, he’s my roommate. We’re not dating.” Betty stumbles, a nervous giggle leaves her mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not </span>
  <em>
    <span>yet</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” At that, his cheeks flame and his curiosity at her reaction wins out over the fear of confronting the situation. The old lady leans over and pats Betty on the cheek. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Jughead approaches the table, hands stuffed in his pocket to keep him from fidgeting, the woman’s husband helps her into her coat. “That’s enough matchmaking for today, Marg.” The warmth in the man's voice matches the fond look he’s giving his wife and Jughead can’t help but smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bashful smile on Betty’s face isn’t the expression he expected, and though her cheeks are tinged pink, it’s not like when she’s truly embarrassed and her ears turn bright red. Before he can do a full analysis of her reaction, the older man apologizes to them before offering an arm to his wife and leading her towards the exit. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“But Dale,” Jughead hears the woman protest,  “those silly kids can’t tell they’re in love when it’s right in front of them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead stares down at the table, smiling to himself. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time he and Betty get home from the mall it’s nearly 6:30 so they start on dinner as soon as all their purchases are put away. They chat mindlessly, dancing around one another. Betty prepares homemade pizza and he tries not to mess up the salad and neither one of them brings up the interaction at the pretzel stand from earlier. Jughead’s perfectly content to keep the memory locked away for another day, not quite ready to face what either of their reactions means. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As they eat dinner, Betty animatedly relays stories about her niece and nephew as Jughead listens to her soft voice filling the space between them. He’s happy to stay quiet as long as her voice continues to float through their apartment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The missing part to his vignette is right in front of him. Jughead rushes off to his room after helping with the dishes, promising to be right out with her finished present. “Right out” turns into another half hour of working and reworking, trying to put into words just how he feels without revealing everything. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time he opens his door, the only sounds in the apartment are low voices from the TV. He pads quietly into the living room and sees Betty asleep on the couch, cheek squished against the arm. He can’t help but think how beautiful she is, little pieces of her hair falling into her face from her messy french braid. The blanket that he assumes was draped across her legs is on the floor. Picking it up, he drapes it back over her and tucks his handwritten vignette next to her on the couch. Not wanting to wake her up, he holds back from brushing the hair from her face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good night, Betts,” he whispers before heading back to his room. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Happy first day of Christmas, Betts.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>An air of fear lingers around Violet like thick fog on uncertain mornings. She’s never before had this much time to think about the future and the uncertainty that it holds. Of course, it lingers through the day and into the ambiguity of night, even through conversations with a beloved and familiar friend. Even the certainty of childhood bonds are questioned when the fog of fear reaches every unsearched crevice. It’s not until an unfamiliar, though sunshiney, voice breaks through that there seems to be some clarity...</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next chapter will be back in Betty's POV. I hope you liked the look into Jughead's brain:)</p><p>Let me know what you think:)</p><p>Tumblr: ithoughtyoulikedmereckless</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. day 2: gingerbread</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello, hello,</p><p>I took my first final yesterday and it took 6 freaking hours. My brain ded, head empty. If the quality of my writing lowers in the next few days, I'm sincerely sorry lol.</p><p>Also, I had made Jughead an English before all the discourse so...oops. Personally, I think he'd be a wonderful teacher for his students, maybe less so for administration. </p><p>Also! Thank you for all your lovely comments, I've read them all, I just haven't had the chance to reply back yet.</p><p>I hope you enjoy!<br/>-rachel</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>gingerbread cookies: </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>12 (1½ sticks) tablespoons unsalted butter </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>3/4 cup brown sugar, packed</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>3/4 cup molasses</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>1 teaspoon salt</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>2 teaspoons cinnamon</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>2 teaspoons ginger</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>1/4 teaspoon allspice or cloves</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>1 large egg</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>1 teaspoon baking powder</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>1/2 teaspoon baking soda</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>3 3/4 cups flour</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~~~</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The station’s platform is bustling with people. The sound of beloved holiday tunes from street performers mingle with the chaos of voices and shuffling feet. Betty weaves her way through frazzled mothers and angry businessmen shouting into their phones. There’s always a specific buzz to the air during the holiday season in New York City. It’s not strong enough to attach a tangible feeling to the sensation, but it’s there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty smiles when snow flurries land against the skin of her cheek as she steps onto the street. Pulling the collar of her coat up, she picks up her pace, excited to get back home. She and Jughead had agreed to decorate their tree that night and it’s all she’s been able to think about all day. That, and his gift from the night before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The night before, when Jughead had gone into his room after dinner, Betty had gotten to work baking his gift for the next day and then promptly passed out on the couch while trying to wait up for him. After waking up in the middle of the night, neck stiff from the weird angle she had fallen asleep at, Betty had found his handwritten piece. There were so many small details incorporated into the one sheet of paper, reminding her just how thoughtful Jughead is. He’d designed it to look like a scrapbook page (something she loves) and had used dark blue ink (her favorite color to write in). </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead had minored in creative writing, and she’s read bits and pieces that he’s shared with her so she knows he’s talented, but everytime she’s presented with his words, it’s like he’s handing over a piece of himself to her. He’s never been one to willingly talk about his feelings, and when he does, he tends to stumble over himself and get lost in his own words. But when Jughead’s writing, he’s so eloquent and emphatic with every phrase. He jokes that he’s going to write the next great American novel, but it’s always with a self deprecating lilt and when Betty readily agrees with him, he waves her off like it’s an unattainable dream.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty passes by the small Jewish bakery she and Jughead frequent. It’s at the last intersection before her apartment complex. The window is lit up with a gold menorah and warm smells travel through the crisp air. It’s incredibly enticing and she knows that if Jughead were with her, they’d be stopping. She can’t wait to get home and hear about his day. Mondays always bring the funniest stories about his students. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Jughead speaks about his students, he’s so passionate about how much potential and creative genius they all have. She only wishes he would have that kind of confidence in himself. Jughead hadn’t started out in the Education field, but his students are damn lucky that’s where he ended up. There was one day last month that he had forgotten his lunch and because Betty had the day off, had decided to drop by and surprise him. She had arrived a few minutes before the lunch bell had rung and was able to be a fly on the wall. Energy had radiated out of the room, his students loud and excited, but speaking about Hamlet rather than their plans for lunch. She’s never seen a group of teenagers so animatedly discuss Shakespeare before.  His voice had filtered through, bright and passionate, seeping through with every word. In that moment, heart fluttering, she knew her feelings for jughead were more than a casual ‘what if’ crush.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To top off his plate of gingerbread cookies today, she’d left a note that said:</span>
  <em>
    <span> For every gingerbread man, there’s a student whose life you’ve changed. You bring spice to the lives of each of your students just like the cinnamon in these little gingerbread men.</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Stepping into the elevator, she smiles at the older gentleman that lives down the hall on their floor and trades small talk about the snow with him. Betty had worked later than usual, so when she finally steps into the apartment, Jughead has dinner for her and all the boxes of decorations out. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think my kids would have had an aneurysm if we waited any longer to put up our tree. They were all so pressed that it wasn't up the day after Thanksgiving,” Jughead chuckles as he’s stretching up to put a glass bulb on a branch. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty crouches next to the decoration storage box, looking for more ornaments. “It was up! It just wasn’t decorated.” She stands back up, package of green and gold ornaments in her grip, ready to hand to Jughead. “Don’t tell them it’s a fake tree, they might never talk to you again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re still bitter about it, aren’t you?” He teases, grabbing two ornaments and walking around the tree to find the perfect spot.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Only a little bit. I guess keeping you alive is more important than the authenticity of my Christmas experience.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The first year they had celebrated Christmas in their apartment, Jughead had told her he was allergic to pine trees so they needed to get a fake one. She hadn’t believed him for a second, assuming he just hated all things Christmas, so she went out and got one anyway. When Veronica had gotten home she’d freaked out, and after Jughead had stepped out of his room, nose and eyes running and throat closing up, Betty never questioned him again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Needless to say, they now have a fake tree.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m so glad you feel that way,” he says sarcastically. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She hands him another ornament (perks of having a tall roommate: they can reach the top part of the tree without a ladder). “The best part about having a fake tree—you know, other than you being able to breathe—” he snorts, rolling his eyes, “is having built-in lights. I hate having to detangle them, it’s the bane of my existence.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re welcome. Glad my allergy serves you well.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty puts the empty package back in the box, picking up another box of  gold teardrop ornaments. “My mom puts up a real tree, though, so we’ll have to figure out how to keep you alive while we’re there.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead takes the box from her so she can tie bows onto the tree. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll just bring a lot of tissues. Maybe half a dozen boxes, just to be safe.” Their eyes meet when he looks at her around the tree and they both laugh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The white lights on the tree make his eyes sparkle and she has to force her to look elsewhere so he doesn’t freak out from her staring so intently. Jughead clears his throat and her mind goes blank from panic, trying to come up with a reason to tell him why she’s staring. She doesn’t make it very far before he starts talking. “So, do you think we need to start, uh, creating a portfolio of sorts?” He’s focused on the tree, bending the branch a little too enthusiastically for the light ornament he’s hanging.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What in the world are you talking about?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He steps away from the tree, looking at her with wide eyes like he’s begging her to understand. “You know, have proof for your mom.” His hand comes up to rub at the back of his neck. “That we, uh, are in fact, you know, dating.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A portfolio?” she giggles.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead snatches the ornament she’s offering him  with an adorable scowl. “Shut up, I’ve never done this before.” He gestures vaguely in between them, looking a little flustered. “I don’t know what to call it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s adorable.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, well, what do coupley people do when they put up a tree?” He shrugs, adjusting one of the bows she had tied out of her reach. “Wait, hold on, let me check Pinterest. They probably have some couple inspiration ideas.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> He steps out from behind the tree and she looks up from her phone. “Betts, I say this in the nicest way possible, but there’s no way I’m doing any of those.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You haven’t even looked at them!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stares at her, unamused.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They're not all bad!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mhmm.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty continues to scroll, determined to find one he’ll like and maybe be willing to reenact. One with a couple sitting on the couch, cuddled up together while they gaze at their tree catches her eye. “Okay, what about this one?” She shows him the screen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re kidding right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” Betty turns the screen back to look at it again, trying to figure out what’s wrong with it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They’re just staring at the tree, that’s weird.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty keeps scrolling and mumbles under her breath “</span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re</span>
  </em>
  <span> weird.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead just chuckles and hands her a bow. “Don’t make me decorate this whole tree by myself. We’ll come up with something.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They finish putting all the bows and glass bulbs on the tree, though as soon as they finish, Jughead finds the strings of beads they were supposed to put up first. Betty takes them from him and puts them back in the bin, and closes the lid like they never found them. He’s still kind of grumpy about it so she hands him a gingerbread cookie, which seems to help. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The last step is putting the star at the top, but they realize too late that Veronica took their step stool with her when she moved. They stand next to each other, shoulders touching as they gaze up at their tree, the gold star clutched in Betty’s hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How are we going to get this star up there?” Betty says, lifting the star.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um,” Jughead starts looking around their apartment, “Oh! I got it.” He grabs her empty hand and pulls her towards their couch. “Get up there and then I’m gonna squat,” he says, already squatting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You want me to do </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Get on my shoulders!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty looks at him with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. “You’re kidding.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, come on! It’s the only way.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I feel like there are plenty of other ways, but okay.” Betty stepped up onto the couch, wiggling slightly before catching her footing. She’s staring down at Jughead’s shoulders, knowing that nothing about this is going to go well. “You’re sure?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, it’ll be fine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jug, I don’t think this is going to be fine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looks at her over his shoulder and smiles, a wide confident smile that sets her heart racing. “Just get on, it’s the only way to save Christmas.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite herself, Betty smiles when rolling her eyes at his dramatic tone. “Fine, hold this so I don’t break it, or you, while trying to get on.” Handing off the star, she swings one leg over his right shoulder and then her left over his other shoulder. Immediately she feels unstable and grabs onto his head while his free hand grabs onto her leg.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She squeals when he stands up fully and tightens her hold on him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, if this is going to work, you really need to let go of my face.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty looks down and notices her hands are directly over his eyes and quickly lets go. “Sorry!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hands her the star and then grabs her other leg, squeezing twice in a comforting gesture. “We got this. Only five steps to victory.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Or to disaster.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead looks up at her, and she can barely see his eyes with his hair flopping onto his forehead. She’s looking down at him, and on impulse, brushes the hair from his face. For a moment, neither one of them says anything and Betty lets her thumb drag across his temple. If she leans down just an inch more, they’d be in each other space, another inch and they’d be—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead clears his throat and raises his eyebrows. “I thought you were supposed to be the optimist out of the two of us?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You must have rubbed off on me. Now move so I can get down.” She chuckles. Whatever moment they might have been having, coming to an end.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He takes five careful steps and they’re at the tree. As she leans forward, Jughead squeezes her legs a little tighter so she doesn’t fall into the tree and she places the star at the top. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He takes a step back and they both admire their handy work. “That’s always my favorite part.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Me too,” he whispers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They stay like that for another moment before Betty’s struck with an idea. “Jug! Get my phone.” One hand is on the top of his head and the other point to the coffee table. “We’ll take a video and then screenshot the moment that looks the best. This beats the Pinterest photo.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He obliges and does a slow, awkward squat trying to grab the phone without dumping her on the ground, which Betty deeply appreciates. He slaps his hand around on the table a few times before finding her phone and hands it up to her for her to unlock. They set it up in between the couch cushions and press the record button. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, start walkin’, buddy”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead laughs. “As you wish, highness,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he tries to waddle closer to the tree to get them both in the shot, but his foot gets caught on the rug and Betty’s heart plummets to the bottom of her stomach. Somehow, he catches his footing and they’re able to recover without catastrophe. Jughead spins around and they face the camera. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Now what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um, smile?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shouldn’t we do something else?” he questions, trying to look up at her, his hair getting in his eyes again without his beanie to hold it back. “I feel like if Veronica and Archie were to do this, they wouldn’t just smile.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They probably would have taken the Pinterest picture.” She giggles.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead pretends to gag and Betty playfully hits his head. “Be nice.” She thinks for a moment before suggesting that he hold her hands instead of her legs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah. That’s good.” He moves his hands from her thighs and laces his fingers through hers. Somehow, this feels a lot more intimate than his hands had been just moments before. “But now what?” He takes her hands and holds them to his chest, she feels his heartbeat over his grey sweater and it’s faster than normal.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t this enough?” She’s trying not to let her mind run with the implications of his heartbeat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You should—uh, kiss my cheek.” There’s a tense moment of silence before he continues. “That’s what couples do, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Right</span>
  </em>
  <span>, couples.” Betty chokes out. “Uh, sure.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Briefly closing her eyes, feeling ridiculous that she’s more nervous to kiss his stupid, beautiful cheek than she has ever been about kissing people on the mouth. She takes in a deep breath before leaning down and to the side in order to reach his cheek. Unfortunately for her, she overshoots and her lips end up at the corner of his mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead’s breath hitches and his grip loosens. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her life nearly flashes before her eyes as she slips from his grip, heading straight towards the ground. She slips off his shoulders, and in the process brings him down with her. Somehow, he’s able to grab her before they hit the floor, taking the brunt of their fall. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead’s head falls to the floor and groans. “Let’s never do that again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She rolls off of him, not being able to handle his warm hands settled on her waist, and instead lies beside him. Betty rolls her head to the side to peak at him, and his eyes are still shut, a small whine coming from the back of his throat. She can’t stop the laugh that’s coming up from inside of her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah, I’m swell.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Feeling emboldened by everything that’s happened tonight, she rests her head against his chest. His heartbeat thumps a slow, steady song against her ear. “You’re still breathing, which is always a good sign.” Her voice is softer than it was a moment ago, and she curses the heat she feels in the tips of her ears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead lifts his head and opens one eye, a smile ghosting his lips. “Let’s just hope we can get a good picture out of it. I don’t want to have broken ribs for nothing.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty extracts herself from him, needing some space before she does something </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>insane, and leaves him on the floor, patting his chest before grabbing her phone. Opening up the video, she plays it through and it’s better than anything she could have hoped for. The beginning looks promising, there are plenty of moments she thinks will be picture worthy. A blush rises to her cheeks when she watches him hold her hands to his chest. There’s a moment where she had thought they were both looking at the camera, instead she’s beaming forward while Jughead’s looking at her. His expression is the softest look she’s ever seen on his face, the light from the tree reflecting in his eyes. Betty’s stomach erupts into butterflies. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is it good?” Jughead asks from the floor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty can only nod, her eyes glued to the scene playing out in front of her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Soon enough, she watches herself slip from his shoulders, both their faces comically horrified, limbs flailing about before they hit the ground. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, this perfect,” she manages to get out through her snorts of laughter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead finally gets up and looks for himself as Betty rewinds it to just before the fall. He doubles over in laughter himself. “It may not be Mama Cooper content, but that’s a keeper for sure.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for almost dying for our </span>
  <em>
    <span>portfolio</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” she teases and her giggles continue when he shoves her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once they calm down, Jughead disappears into his room for a moment, coming out with a piece of paper, a green bow wrapped around it. She smiles at him when he hands it to her. She’s greedy for his words and can’t wait to have the whole thing all in one place.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They take a seat on the couch while she reads it. As soon as she’s done, Betty shifts, her knee pressing against his thigh. “You’re so talented, Juggie.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His cheeks grow a rosy pink and he looks at his lap. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Seriously, I know it’s hard for you to share, but—” She doesn’t know how to put into words how much these little snippets mean to her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Betts.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She can tell he’s uncomfortable with the attention so changes the topic slightly. “So random characters or are they from something you’ve been writing? Am I going to figure out the story as I go?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He finally looks at her again, his gaze soft and the side of his mouth quirks up in a bashful smile. “It’s a collection of vignettes so it’s more about life’s moments, you’ll understand more once all the pieces are together.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty looks down at the paper again, and then places it on the coffee table so she can wrap her arms around his neck. “I love it.” He wraps her arms around her waist. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Violet imagines the way their hands would come together like puzzle pieces after one's been missing for years. She imagines the way his voice would sound like the sun first thing in the morning, bringing warmth and light to the day. She imagines the quiet moments, the song in his heartbeat. She imagines the pure bliss it would be to share a life with him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I rewrote a section of this that didn't sit right with me this morning and didn't have anyone look at it, so hopefully everything was still readable:)</p><p>Let me know your thoughts! I love to hear them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. day 3: death by chocolate</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hi!</p><p>I've run out of pre-written chapters and it shows. Hopefully I'll be back to posting in the morning once finals are over, but who knows!</p><p>Some of you wanted the full recipe and I am more than happy to provide!! If you bake any of them, let me know how they come out!! Today's recipe: https://www.delish.com/cooking/recipe-ideas/recipes/a50447/death-by-chocolate-cookies-recipe/</p><p>Anyway, I hope you enjoy today's chapter:)</p><p>rachel</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>death by chocolate</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>2 cups all-purpose flour</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>3/4 cups cocoa powder</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>1 tsp. baking soda</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>1/2 tsp. salt</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>1 cup butter, softened</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>2/3 cup sugar</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>2/3 cup brown sugar</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>2 eggs</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>1 tsp. vanilla</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>1 3/4 cups semisweet chocolate chips, divided</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>1 cup dark chocolate chips</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>3/4 cup heavy cream</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Flaky sea salt, for garnish</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~~~</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The ramen blocks fall apart in the from-a-packet chicken broth Jughead had made moments before. He never used to use the broth, just making the noodles like regular pasta and then pouring the flavoring directly on top once it had been drained. Betty had told him that no healthy individual should be consuming that much salt in one sitting, so now he only saves a little bit for the top. Jughead has miscalculated the size of pot he had needed for three packages of ramen, and as a result, the broth sloshes over the side as he stirs with a fork. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Earlier that morning, Jughead had been woken up at an ungodly hour by a phone call from his school administration calling for a snow day. When he and Betty had gone to bed the night before it was snowing, continuing through the night and on and off through the morning. Betty had decided to work from home so she didn’t have to brave the subway system in the snow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She hasn’t left her room all day, and it’s nearly two in the afternoon. Jughead has one more paper from an essay he had assigned last month to grade before being all caught up. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Just in time for their term papers to be in,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thinks wryly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shutting off the stove, he drains the ramen and dumps it into two large bowls, his overflowing and Betty’s a human-sized portion. Jughead can’t make much, but he’s a pro at any kind of pasta. Opening the fridge, he grabs a leaf of parsley to place on top of her bowl, knowing it’ll make her smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Knock, knock,” he says, rather than actually knocking since both hands are occupied. Her door is cracked open and he can hear her mouse clicking. He imagines her dragging designs around like he’s seen her do many times. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She makes a sound of acknowledgment which he takes as permission to enter. “I made you lunch. I figured you wouldn’t stop and make something for yourself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s a few seconds before she seems to process what he says, her focus still on the screen in front of her. Jughead comes up beside her, sitting on the edge of her desk when she finally drags herself away from her work.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You made ramen?” To anyone else, her brilliant smile would only be one of gratitude, but he knows better than to ignore the teasing glint in her eye.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes ma’am, the perfect snow day food.” He places the bowl in her hands and nudges it gently towards her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She laughs while twirling some ramen around her fork. “Jughead, your diet is still that of a malnutritioned college student.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well it’s a good thing you're around to stuff some vegetables into me from time to time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty smiles as she pushes back from her desk and rests her feet on top, crossing her ankles and sliding down further into her chair. “Thank you for making me lunch, Jug. I’ve been so focused on trying to get this project done, it’s driving me insane.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You work too hard, Betts.” He bumps her feet with his elbow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty looks him in the eye as she shoves a forkful of ramen into her mouth, obviously not wanting to acknowledge it. She’s never been good about giving herself credit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead’s gaze catches her window. The snow clings to the edge, creating a soft frame from the winter landscape outside. There’s a child walking down the street hand in hand with their mother, covered head to toe in puffy snow gear. Before his thought is fully formed, it’s already leaving his mouth. “Go sledding with me.” The words are softer than he’s expecting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looks back at her and she’s staring at him like he’s a man possessed. “Take a long lunch break and let's go sledding. You’ve been working since seven this morning, it’s time for a break.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty glances at the designs still up on her computer screen and then back at him looking extremely skeptical, a single eyebrow raised. “Jughead, I can’t just leave in the middle of a work day.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on, Betts.” He puts his half-eaten bowl of ramen on the desk and steps between her and her computer. His hands rest on the arms of her chair. “Play in the snow with me.” He feels thirteen years younger than he is, trying to cause mischief.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She points an accusing fork at him. “You hate the snow.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but you work too hard and I love being a bad influence.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dropping her feet, she sits up, worrying her lip. His gaze is drawn to the motion, wanting to tug her pink, plush lip from her teeth with his thumb. Her voice brings him back before he does something ridiculous like touch her.  “I don’t know, Jug. I haven’t even been at this company a whole year and I don’t want to seem like a bad employee.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Betts, you work overtime almost every day. Just work longer tonight if you’re really worried about not having enough hours.” He takes a seat back onto the edge of her desk, finishing his lunch and smirking at her. “Or claim internet problems.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She gets up, walking to the kitchen with her dirty dishes and he follows suit. “I think hanging out with high schoolers every day has ruined your work ethic,” she throws over her shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can’t ruin it if you never had it in the first place.”</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Betty takes his bowl from him, playful scowl etched into her soft features. “That’s such a lie! You have a great work ethic.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead holds his hands up in front of him. “Hey, you said it first.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Taking a hand out from under the faucet, she flicks water at him. “If I were to say yes to you—,” she stares at him hard, “which I’m not saying I am— where are we going to get a sled?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My closet.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty shuts the faucet off and looks at him with such a puzzled expression that he can’t help but laugh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Archie got it for himself in November when they were on sale at Walmart but Veronica wouldn’t allow it in their apartment,” Jughead shrugs, “So it’s been in my closet for at least a month now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So you’re saying that if I don’t go with you, that poor sled might not ever get used?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was not saying that at all, but he’s going with it now. “Absolutely, yes, that’s what I’m saying. You don’t want to have that poor unused sled on your conscience, do you?” He looks at her with his bottom lip pulled into a pout. He can see her resolve slipping, knowing it’s only a matter of time before she agrees to play hooky with him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s a hint of a smile flickering across her face, starting in her eyes and spreading to consume her whole expression. “I mean, I guess it would be pretty rude not to help the sled fulfill its purpose.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead puts a hand onto her shoulder. “Exactly! Plus, you can think of it as another thing to add to our dating portfolio.” As he’s speaking, his hand shifts to her lower back, pushing her towards her bedroom again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You're ridiculous. Why do you keep saying it like that?” she chuckles, looking up at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s the English teacher in me. Now you better be out there in 10 minutes, earmuffs on your head and ready to go.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty heads into her room, but before shutting the door all the way, her head peeks out to sneak one last look at him. He can feel the giddiness radiating off of her and he gives her a wide smile, one that probably gives away too much, but he can’t control it. Not when she’s looking at him like pure sunshine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My cookie message was so spot on today! You just proved it even though you rolled your eyes at it this morning. Admit it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had made him death by chocolate cookies today, the half covered in chocolate sprinkled with sea salt. Her note had said: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Like the salt on these cookies, you try to trick people into thinking you aren’t an incredibly sweet individual.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’ll never admit it. “You now have nine minutes, Coop.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her door shuts with a distinctive click and he turns into his room to layer up. </span>
  <em>
    <span>God</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he hates the snow. The smile stays on his face.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, why aren’t we at Pilgrim Hill? That one’s better,” Betty’s looking down the hill as she speaks, sizing up the slope. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’d made it to Central Park, and Jughead’s sole focus is just how cute she looks in her white earmuffs. Somehow he gets himself to drag his eyes away to scan the area.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Great Hill isn’t nearly as crowded, I don’t want to see any of my students.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They’re in high school Jug, you think they’re out sledding?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead turns to her, gesturing between the two of them and gives her a wry grin. “We’re full adults and we’re out sledding, you never know! I’m not risking it. I spend enough time with those demon spawns.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Juggie,” she chastises, and he ignores her playful disappointment, focusing on the nickname that always makes him blush. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, we doing this or what?” The air is biting at his cheeks and he tugs his beanie further over his ears. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You already seem grumpy.” Betty giggles and he glares at her. “This was your idea, mister.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Don’t remind me.” Jughead places the sled on the ground, sitting on the back of it, leaving enough room for Betty to sit in front of him. “Okay, climb aboard. Let’s get this over with.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty happily sits in front of him, sticking her feet into the snow to help keep them in place. She turns around and squishes his cheeks in her hand. “Your red cheeks make you look like an angry tomato.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her smile is infectious and he feels his own smile pulling at the ends of his mouth. Despite the cold, her hands warm his face. His heart warms even though she’s not physically touching it. Betty seems to have that effect on him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His chuckle is soft as he gently pushes her hand away from him and wraps his arms around her puffy coat. “Please keep your hands and feet inside the angry tomato express at all times. Are we ready for take-off?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She nods her head, earmuffs hitting the side of his head. He pushes off in the snow and then rests his feet along the edge of the sled. They shoot down the hill, wind hitting their faces and Betty squeals happily. Her hands grip the handles at the side, hooking her arms over his legs to keep him from falling off. The hair from Betty’s ponytail flicks in the wind and hits him in the face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he's trying to spit the strands out of his mouth when Betty hits his leg. “There’s a boy! Lean!” Jughead peaks around her shoulder just in time to see a little boy, lying in the middle of the hill. He and Betty lean to the right, just barely missing him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t need to add murder to the list of reasons your mom’s going to hate me.” He chuckles.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty turns around to say something, but she never gets the chance because they fly over a snow ramp that neither of them had seen and go flying through the air. Crashing a few seconds later, the sled continues to slide away as they lie in the snow, limbs akimbo. Snow has made its way into the collar of his coat and through the three layers he has on and it is now dripping down his back. He hates the snow. Betty's laughter breaks through his mental threats at the snow and he looks over at her face scrunched up in joy and he thinks that  makes all this worth it. “Go again?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They walk up and slide down the hill at least a dozen more times, their unchecked laughter rivaling that of the children around them. For the next half hour, everything falls away. There are no deadlines to worry about, there are no papers to grade, there are no parents to impress. It’s just Betty’s smile and reckless fun. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They end up lying in the snow after their last run, Betty insisting on making snow angels. He’s strucks with how easy all of this is with her. His parents were always absent unless they needed Jughead and Jellybean to cover for them when things didn’t go their way. This time of year has always been his least favorite.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty turns her head and catches his gaze. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just, this time of year and everything that comes with it.” She doesn’t say anything, encouraging him to continue with a patient smile. He looks up into the sky, tracing the dead branches’ silhouettes.  “You know, the holidays were always hard when I was younger. I used to dread them, even more than my birthday. Veronica would invite Jelly and I to her house, but her dad never liked me and it never felt like it should have gone. I neve used to understand the magic of Christmas that everyone would talk about.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty reaches out and squeezes his arm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But since we started celebrating the season together, I think I’m beginning to see some of that magic.” He looks back at her and nearly loses his train of thought at how warm her smile is. “What I’m trying to say, is, uh, you may be my best friend, but… I also consider you to be my family.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her eyes go wide and he panics. Maybe he’s been misinterpreting the last few days and the cookie messages.  “I’m, uh, just really happy and I– I love how things are,” he finishes, rather lamely.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There are tears in her eyes and her lips are parted, but nothing’s leaving her mouth. He sits up, heart squeezing and grabs her arm, helping her up. “Aw, Betts, don’t cry in the middle of the park.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, don’t say such sweet things to me in the middle of the park!” She glares at him, but her hand squeezes his arm and he knows she’s not really mad. In a softer tone, almost swallowed by the sounds of the city, she says, “You’re my family too, Juggie.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He beams at her, not caring one bit that she is single-handedly destroying his brooding demeanor. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few more snow angels and making a small snowman named Gerald, Betty insists they take some pictures. “Look grumpy,” she says, squishing his face in one of her hands. Jughead does as he’s told and pinches his face into a frown as they look pose for the picture. They look at the photo: his mouth may be frowning, but his eyes tell a different story. “I told you to look grumpy.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s not about to admit that he looks anything but grumpy in that picture. “I do! I hate the snow. You know I do”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, </span>
  <em>
    <span>sure</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead leans down, balling a snowball in his hands and calls her names before chucking it at her. Unfortunately, his athletic abilities have always been below the curve and instead of hitting her stomach like it’s supposed to, the snowball hits her square in the face. It’d be a beautiful shot had that been where he was aiming for. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s frozen, not sure if he should apologize or run as far away from her as possible. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her hand flicks the snow from her face, and her skin is bright red. Before he thinks about his, he’s next to her, thumb skimming her cheek. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay? It’s so </span>
  <em>
    <span>red.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When she doesn’t say anything, he brings his gaze up to hers and she’s giving him a look he can’t quite decipher. One side of her mouth is quirked into a smirk and then he’s being shoved into the snow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m great, how are you doing?” she says,  giggling and the whole thing is so childish, he can’t help but laugh himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He holds out a hand for her to help him up, which she does and he throws an arm around her. “Let’s get you home, Freeze Miser.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks for making a delinquent out of me today.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Anytime.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Richard’s smiles come as easily as finding pebbles on a beach. But each one feels like finding a piece of seaglass among the seaweed. Violet only scowls, but when he looks at her, her frowns are in reverse. There’s no stopping them. </span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. day 4: shortbread</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>AHHHHH!</p><p>Okay so I had this chapter finished in time and then one of my best friend called me and were were on FaceTime for far too long. I just hung up on him and here we are. I know it's not technically the day anymore but...hopefully you can forgive me lol</p><p>I am all done with finals though so I'm freeeeeee!</p><p>Today's recipe: https://www.bettycrocker.com/recipes/shortbread-cookies/bc3291aa-1e6d-4174-9784-700bebb69b91 (I usually use a recipe from a cookbook I have so hopefully this one is still good:))</p><p>rachel</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> shortbread cookies: </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ¾ cup butter, softened  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> 5 tablespoons sugar </em>
</p><p>
  <em> 2 cups all-purpose flour </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Unlike this short recipe, you’re not, which comes in quite handy when I need something off of the top shelf.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Love, Betty </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ~~~ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t wanna.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s very mature, Jughead.” Betty has him on FaceTime, leaned up against the mirror in Veronica’s bedroom as she’s putting in a pair of gold hoops. </p><p> </p><p>“Betty, it’s a school night. I don’t want to go to a bar surrounded by a bunch of Wall Street men, drowning their sorrows in amber poison. It’s a Wednesday night! Who goes out on a Wednesday?”</p><p> </p><p>Veronica enters the room and waves Betty's response away before she can say anything. “We can’t always get what we want, Jughead.” She takes the phone from the bureau and holds it so Betty can no longer see him. “It’s Reggie’s birthday so we have to go out and celebrate!”</p><p> </p><p>“I thought we were trying to discourage his alcoholic frat boy habits?” Betty hears Jughead’s tired voice say. </p><p> </p><p>Veronica rolls her eyes. “You’ll be fine, Jughead. Betty Boo is going to be there and that’s all you need. You can leave at nine if you want to.”</p><p> </p><p>Betty drags liquid liner across her eyelid, flicking it out in a subtle wing. Veronica and Jughead continue to squabble as she drowns them out, focusing on making her eyes match. She has no idea how Veronica has the patience to do eyeliner every day. Betty had gotten a call during her lunch break from Veronica insisting that she come over so they can get ready together. Of course when she had gotten there, Veronica had outfit options lying out on the bed for her. Veronica had settled on anemerald green silk shirt that buttons up the front, leaving a hint of skin on display, and a pair of black skinny jeans, paired with her black pumps from the day. Betty had insisted on wearing her plaid blazer with it because, like Jughead mentioned, it’s only a Wednesday night. </p><p> </p><p>Brushing mascara across her lashes, Betty looks over her shoulder to see Veronica waving her hands in exasperation at the phone. Veronica looks up for a moment and catches her eye, and then her expression turns to one of mischief. </p><p> </p><p>“Betty looks ridiculously good, so I wouldn’t miss out on it if I were you. Toodles.” Veronica waggles her fingers at the screen and ends the call.</p><p> </p><p>“V!” Betty’s mouth gapes at the smug look on Veronica’s face.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, he’ll be fine.” Veronica comes up behind her, picking up the brush and running it through her hair. “Make him squirm a little. It’s so fun to mess with his head.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re mean.”</p><p> </p><p>“Nah, he knows I love to mess with him. He’s had nearly fifteen years to get used to it.” Veronic clips her hair up and hovers her hand above the curling iron to see if it’s hot enough. “Plus, nothing I said was <em> wrong </em>. You’re hot and he should know it.”</p><p> </p><p>Betty smiles at her in the mirror. “Your need for chaos is unlike that of  anyone else I know.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll take that as a compliment.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>The bar is relatively quiet, the occasional group of friends huddled in booths and a few lone stragglers at the bar itself. Reggie arrives, already a few drinks in, and throws his arm around Archie as soon as he’s close enough. “I didn’t know you’d be here! It’s so good to see you, bro.”</p><p> </p><p>Archie claps him on the back and jostles him in a friendly greeting. “Seeings how I texted the group chat about drinks tonight, I’d sure hope I’d be here.”</p><p> </p><p>Reggie seems to finally realize that Betty and Veronica are there too and move to collect them in a huge bear hug. “Yooo! You guys look great, where’s everyone else?” </p><p> </p><p>Before they can respond, Reggie lets go and gets distracted by a guy in a Santa hat sitting at the bar and strikes up a boisterous conversation.</p><p> </p><p>“The birthday boy seems quite content, can I leave now?” Jughead’s low, disinterested voice appears by her ear.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Juggie </em>,” she chastises, a teasing lilt to her voice. Spinning around she offers him an excited smile. “I didn’t even see you come in!” Her hand finds his arm and squeezes. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I came in with Trev and Josie and they saw someone they knew. We got a little sidetracked.” He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and then his eyes are scanning the bar like he’s making sure no one’s watching. His eyes land back on her and he pulls back, taking in her outfit. “Veronica was right, Betts, you look great.”</p><p> </p><p>Her cheeks flame at his words, and she looks down at her toes. “It was all her.”</p><p> </p><p>Putting a hand on her arm, Jughead rubs gently, his own cheeks tinged pink. “No, you’re always—”</p><p> </p><p>“Jug! My man! Look, I’m you.” Reggie barrels towards them, Santa hat resting askew on his head. He throws an arm around both Betty and Jughead’s shoulders. </p><p> </p><p>Betty could strangle Reggie right now. Jughead had been about to say something, and she thinks she knows what, but… what if she’s wrong? She’s been thinking about their conversation from yesterday nearly non-stop. Betty’s sure he was going to say more, but something had held him back and it’s been driving her crazy. </p><p> </p><p>“Ah, Reg, impeccable timing,” Jughead glares at him while Betty tries to get her thoughts under control. “As always.”</p><p> </p><p>“Where’d you get the hat, Reg?” Betty questions.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, some guy at the bar! I’m Jughead now.” Reggie lets out a hearty laugh, one that's on the verge of being too loud. </p><p> </p><p>Betty sees Jughead tug his beanie at over his ears, frown making its way back to his face as he grumbles, “You should give that poor overworked mall Santa his hat back, it’s not your look.” </p><p> </p><p>Reggie’s smile fades and Betty jumps to do damage control, tossing a glare Jughead’s way. “I think the hat looks great! In fact, you should go show Josie.” Betty places a kiss on his cheek and he happily bumbles his way over to their other friends.</p><p> </p><p>Betty turns to Jughead and raises an eyebrow at him. “It’s his birthday, Jug. You could have just let him have the moment.” </p><p> </p><p>“He made fun of my hat!” His eyes widen in defense.</p><p> </p><p>“He did not,” Betty giggles. “I think you might be a little sensitive.” She pinches his side and he squirms away from her. </p><p> </p><p>Jughead sputters and Betty rolls her eyes playfully. She sees Archie and Veronica wave them over to a table nestled in the corner of the bar.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on, pout about your hat over there.” Betty grabs his arms and pulls gently in the direction of the others.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not pouting.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m <em> not </em>!”</p><p> </p><p>Betty looks at him and laughs. “I didn’t even say anything!”</p><p> </p><p>They make it to the table, and the look Archie and Veronica are giving them halts their conversation. Betty picks a spot on the table to look at as she gets into the booth. Jughead puts a hand on her lower back, the pads of his fingers pressing into her gently as he lets her slide in first. </p><p> </p><p>“You two having fun?” Veronica sing-songs. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, loads. I love spending insane amounts of money on subpar alcohol.”</p><p> </p><p>Betty puts a hand on his thigh in warning, and glances at him before addressing Veronica. “It just matters if Reggie’s having a good time and he’s chumming it up with all the local Santas so he’s having a great time.”</p><p> </p><p>“It looked like you two were having a moment,” Veronica says, her cocktail halfway to her mouth. </p><p> </p><p>Jughead slumps back in his seat and crosses his arms. “Betty said I was pouting about my hat. Which I wasn’t, by the way.”</p><p> </p><p>Betty rolls his eyes at him, a fond smile on her lips. “It’s past someone’s functioning social hours. He doesn't play well with others.”</p><p> </p><p>“You make it sound like there’s a time where he <em> is </em> good at socializing,” Veronica says into her glass.</p><p> </p><p>“I heard that,” Jughead huffs.</p><p> </p><p>Veronica offers him a sweet smile and Jughead throws a wrapped toothpick at her. </p><p> </p><p>Trev comes over, placing a glass with white wine in front of Betty, and then takes a seat next to Archie. “Here Betts, Josie said you haven't ordered anything yet so I got your usual.” </p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, Trev. That was sweet.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t mention it.” Trev rests his arm on the back of the booth and looks back at Reggie while Josie tries to stop him from taking the shirt from Santa’s back. “Reg’s having a great time, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, he always does,” Archie chuckles. “I bet he’ll come over here trying to convince us all it’s SantaCon.”</p><p> </p><p>“That does seem to happen every year, doesn’t it?” Veronica laughs.</p><p> </p><p>“Like clockwork.”</p><p> </p><p>Josie is holding Reggie back with what looks like most of her body weight and trying to apologize to the man. </p><p> </p><p>Betty nudges Jughead, trying to get out of the booth. “I’m going to go help her. She looks like she needs some backup.”</p><p> </p><p>Jughead gets up and lets her out. “You want some help?”</p><p> </p><p>Betty smiles at him and pats his chest. “Stay tuned.”</p><p> </p><p>Once she makes her way over to Josie and Reggie, the latter is trying to convince the man he is, in fact, the real Santa and <em> needs </em>his suit to save Christmas. </p><p> </p><p>“Alright, Reg. Let’s leave this poor man alone. Come sit with everyone.” Betty grabs his hand and immediately Reggie’s face lights up.</p><p> </p><p>“Betty!” </p><p> </p><p>She effectively distracts him, but now his full body weight is leaning on her and she nearly crumples to the ground as Josie takes his other arm. </p><p> </p><p>“Why do we let him do this every year?” Josie groans. </p><p> </p><p>They make it back to the table, Betty sliding back in next to Jughead and Reggie after her. </p><p> </p><p>Reggie interrupts whatever conversation is happening at the table to rest his head on his hand and stare up at Betty. “Has anyone told you how gorgeous you are, B Coop?</p><p> </p><p>Betty laughs and poors Reggie a glass of water. “Here, drink this.”</p><p> </p><p>The rest of the gang is laughing hysterically at the pout on Reggie’s face. “Is that vodka?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” Veronica says, hand trying to cover her laughter, “make sure you drink it all. Can’t have anyone be drunker than you on your birthday.”</p><p> </p><p>Reggie apparently agrees wholeheartedly because he chugs the whole thing. When Betty picks up her wine glass again, she feels Jughead’s eyes on her and looks over, seeing an intensity in them that’s unfamiliar. His jaw is clenched and she gives him a look of confusion, not sure what his issue is. “Want some?” She offers him her glass. </p><p> </p><p>“No, I’m good. Thanks.”</p><p> </p><p>“You okay?” His gaze seems to be stuck on something past her and his posture is rigid. </p><p> </p><p>“Totally good.”</p><p> </p><p>She leaves him be and joins back in with conversation, but leaves a hand on his thigh hoping that’ll make him feel better somehow. A few minutes later, he’s back to normal and making sarcastic jabs at Veronica. His hand rests on top of hers. She ignores the flutters in her stomach. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>After a few hours, the gang had decided to go dance, but Betty hangs back, knowing Jughead doesn’t like to dance and not wanting him to feel out of place. Plus, she’s had a few and it’s better for everyone if she keeps her dance moves to herself. </p><p> </p><p>Jughead shifts his body towards her, his knee pressing against her thigh and his hand skimming her elbow fom where it rests on the table. “How was your day? You need to head out?”</p><p> </p><p>She raises a hand to his cheeks and stokes the line of his jaw, her inhibitions lowered by her buzz. “It was just the usual stuff. It’s good I’m out tonight, I feel like lately the only places I’ve seen are the inside of my office and our apartment.” His eyes dance across her face, landing on her lips. A thrill runs through her and she decides,<em> To heck with it, </em> and leans in closer, his soft breath tickling her nose. “You wanna know a secret though?”</p><p> </p><p>Jughead nods, his thumb rubbing circles into her arm. </p><p> </p><p>“I’d much rather be on our couch watching Christmas movies with you.”</p><p> </p><p>The secret Jughead smile that only shows up for her comes to his face and she feels her own smile threaten to break wide across her face. “We can do that tomorrow. We’ll order pizza and spend the whole evening watching the worst Hallmark movies we can find.”</p><p> </p><p>“Will you snuggle with me?” The question slips out, but she doesn’t really care, not with the warmth from his hand travelling up her arm and the sweet smile on his face making her so happy. </p><p> </p><p>“Sure, Betts.”</p><p> </p><p>They stay for another half hour, until Trev and Archie have to haul Reggie home and put him to bed. Betty orders an Uber for her and Jughead and they all hug goodbye, parting ways for the night. </p><p> </p><p>Betty does pretty well on the way home until she gets to the end of their hallway, not wanting to wear her shoes anymore, or really walk at all. So she kicks them off. </p><p> </p><p>Jughead keeps walking but stops once he’s a few steps away from her and turns. </p><p> </p><p><em> He’s so pretty</em>, she thinks. </p><p> </p><p>Jughead laughs when he sees her shoes on the floor. “Alright Betts, let’s get you home.” He walks back and scoops her up into his arms, one secured around her waist and the other underneath her legs. </p><p> </p><p>Betty lets out a breath and snuggles into his shoulder, her lidded gaze stuck to his face. “Your eyes look like the sky, and your freckles are stars.” She blinks, eyes drowsy. “Mmm, wanna touch ‘em.” Her fingers gingerly trace the patterns across his face. </p><p> </p><p>She feels a smile come to his face when his words rumble through his chest. “Well, I think your eyes look like the sea in the morning, daring and beautiful.”</p><p> </p><p>Her eyes close as she breathes in his familiar scent. “Sweet man. The best boy, Juggie.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em> ~~~ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Perfection. Violet knows Richard hates the word. But it’s everything that people consider wrong about him that she loves. He’s perfect like an asymmetrical flower. He’s perfect like a stray mark on a painting. He’s perfect like every imperfection that makes the world worth being in. </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I know there are two notes at the bottom, I'll fic it tomorrow...maybe lol</p><p>I hope the flirting made up for how late today's chapter was!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. day 5: candy cane</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi friends, </p><p>So, I sort of became Betty and have been baking all day yesterday and today to put together packages for my neighbors. I got a little into it and ran out of time for writing lol. This is the chapter I had for yesterday and hopefully I'll be able to finish today's tonight and then we'll be back on track. </p><p>Today's recipe: https://www.bettycrocker.com/recipes/candy-cane-cookies/93832e29-3b4f-4977-ae5a-9820053b254c</p><p>Enjoy grumpy teacher Jughead!</p><p>rachel</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>candy cane cookies:</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>1 cup sugar</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>1 cup butter or margarine, softened</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>½ cup milk</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>1 teaspoon vanilla</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>1 teaspoon peppermint extract</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>1 egg</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>3 ½ cups Gold Medal™ all-purpose flour</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>1 teaspoon baking powder</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>¼ teaspoon salt</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>½ teaspoon red food color</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>2 tablespoons finely crushed peppermint candies</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>2 tablespoons sugar</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The right amount of peppermint can turn any treat into a masterpiece like your sarcasm in any conversation </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Love, Betty</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~~~</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead rustles papers around his desk, trying in vain to find the surface underneath all of the student work, to-do lists, abandoned planner sheets and coffee stained post-it notes. It’s the second-to-last day of school before winter break so he’d put </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Great Gatsby</span>
  </em>
  <span> on while his students finished any late work they had missed throughout the semester. His phone lights up, a message from Betty flashing across the screen. Before he can check it, one of his students drags her chair up to his desk and rests her head in her hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Mr. Jones.” Ally, one of his honors students, smiles at him and tilts her head to the side. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead spins his chair away from her and dumps a pile of paper into his recycle bin. “Don’t you have someone else to annoy?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I mean, </span>
  <em>
    <span>yeah</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but this is way more fun.” She laughs and waves to one of her friends from across the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, joy.” He turns back to her and nudges her elbows away so he can grab the post-it notes underneath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jonathan comes up to the side of his desk, clutching his computer in his hands. “Hey, Mr. Jones? Can you look at this for me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead puts his post-its to the side and takes his computer from him. “What happened to independent work time? Did I teach you nothing?” Despite his words, he scrolls through his paper, leaning back into his chair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Ally start to go through his pencil holder. “Ally, touch my stuff again and I’ll kick you out into the hallway.” Her hands snap away from his desk. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He skims the paper in front of him, having already gone through this student’s essay the day before. He makes a few more comments and then shows Jonathan the screen. “Alright, bud, this looks good. Like I said yesterday, you’ve got a really strong core, and your evidence is great. Your analysis is almost there, I just need you to—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who’s Betts??” Jonathan interrupts him, gaze stuck on Jughead’s phone instead of the computer screen like Jughead  had intended. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh my </span>
  <em>
    <span>god!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Is that your girlfriend?” Ally stands up, trying to lean over his desk further to see what Jonathan is talking about.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead grabs his phone and flips it over. “Can we not invade my privacy? Thanks, that’d be great.” The sarcasm seems to go straight over their heads because they don’t leave his desk. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, but Mr. Jones, level with me, man to man.” Jonathan’s playing with a rubber band in his hand, giving Jughead a smirk he never wants to see again. “That’s totally your girlfriend, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re not talking about this.” Jughead shoves Jonathan’s laptop back into his hands and turns his chair away from both him and Ally. He makes himself busy with his messenger bag. “You heathens get enough of my time, I’m not telling you anything about my private life.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, come </span>
  <em>
    <span>on</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Ally whines, now joined by Haily and Grayson. “Is she the girl on your lockscreen?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why did I choose this profession</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Jughead thinks, trying to do the professional thing and not crumple up paper and throw it at his students.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead spins around to face them all, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms, giving them his best disinterested stare. “I can turn the movie off, make you all sit in agonizing silence for the rest of the period? Or we can stop this interrogation.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just then, his phone buzzes and he ignores it in favor of staring them down. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Grayson cracks a smile and looks so smug he reminds Jughead of Veronica. “Sounds important, you should get that,” he says, imitating Jughead’s posture, his arms across his chest as the phone continues to buzz.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Go sit down.” Jughead huffs, before flipping his phone over to see that it’s Betty. His heart seizes, knowing she’d only call him if there’s an emergency. Usually he doesn’t answer phone calls during the day. But— “Hey, what’s up? You okay?” He’s met with static noise like fabric is rubbing against the microphone. “Betts?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hears Haily and Ally squeal, and he’s momentarily taken out of his panic as he glares at them, waving them away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s more rustling on the other end of the line until Betty’s voice finally comes through. “Jug? Oh my gosh, sorry! I was organizing my desk and I must have dialed you.” He lets out a breath and all his students are staring at him, wide eyed. The girls’ mouths are open and the boys are smirking at him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead rolls his eyes, knowing they can’t even hear the other side of the conversation so they’re being dramatic for absolutely no reason.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No problem, just thought there might be something wrong.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh! You’re probably in the middle of class, I didn’t mean to disturb you.” He can imagine her eyebrows pinched up in guilt and smiles. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nah, they’re watching Gatsby.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </em>
  <span> my </span>
  <em>
    <span>god</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he’s telling her about us!” Haily whispers to Jonathan and Jughead tries to wave them away again. If only they’d pay this much attention when he’d gone over MLA formatting for the third time that month. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty chuckles. “Some teacher you are.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Work smarter, not hard and all that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So that’s what you’re calling it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah.” He remembers to keep his smile in check when he catches Ally looking at him like the pages of a romance novel are written on his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jonathan hits Grayson’s arm. “Bro, he’s so whipped.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Grayson’s smile is obnoxious when he responds, “Oh, he’s a </span>
  <em>
    <span>total</span>
  </em>
  <span> simp.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead rolls his eyes and turns away from them as Betty continues to talk. “Since I have you on the phone, I was thinking of maybe making dinner tonight instead of ordering pizza? I still kinda feel like garbage after last night so I might make grilled chicken quinoa bowls.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sounds a little dangerous.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Eating something healthy isn’t going to kill you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you say so. That sounds great though. Movies still?” They hadn’t spoken that morning, both waking up late and rushing out the door, but he wants to make sure he honors his promise from last night. He’s been trying to ignore the smile that’s been on his face since she’d whispered soft words to him in their hallway. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead hears a crash come from behind him but sees nothing but the stares of his disobedient students when he turns around. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ally mouths at him. “No! Take her out for sushi!” Haily nods enthusiastically next to her. “Ladies love sushi!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Grayson doesn’t even try to whisper and basically yells at him like he isn’t a foot away. “Tell her she’s hot.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Jughead closes his eyes and interrupts Betty, while she’s telling him her plan for tonight, “Betts, I gotta go. I’ve got a whole bunch of leeches around my desk. I’ll see you later, yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty giggles into the receiver. “Sure thing. Is the teenage flirting getting to be too much?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, it’s so much worse than that. ”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bye, Juggie.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead hangs up the phone and tosses it on his desk. “If I wasn’t the best teacher you all have ever had, I’d fail every single one of you. But then again, I’d have to have you in class again, so that’s worse for me than it is for you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You love us, Mr. Jones,” Jonathan laughs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And besides, we’re just trying to make sure you don’t die alone,” Haily says smiling at him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How incredibly considerate of you,” Jughead says more to himself than them, making himself busy with the papers on his desk again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s so out of your league, dude,” Jonathan says, staring at the phone he’d left screen-up like an idiot. His background is from last summer when Betty had jumped on his back, throwing bunny ears behind his head while he was trying to eat watermelon. They’re both caught in a giant smile the moment before breaking into ugly laughter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘Dude’ me again and I’ll transfer you out of my class,” Jughead threatens and Jonathan throws his hands up in defense.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ally leans against his desk again. “She’s totally your girlfriend, right? I mean look at your smile. I’ve never seen you look like that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe it’s just because I hate you all.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ally laughs at him, like what he’s saying is the most ridiculous thing she’s heard. “No that’s definitely not it. I think you’re just in love.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead finally stands up, putting his hands down on his desk and towering over his students. “This has been fun, really. Let’s never do it again. Go sit in your seats and watch the movie before I quit and you’re stuck with the long term substitute you all hate.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They all finally take the hint and scurry away from his desk, grumbling under their breaths. For the rest of the class, they continue to whisper to each other, glancing back at him. He gives them a sarcastic smile every time. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Sitting on the couch, plate of candy cane cookies ready for him to eat through while he and Betty criticize every moment of the Hallmark movie they have queued up, Betty comes in from her bedroom dressed in green Grinch PJ pants.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Those are festive.” He laughs, seeing that her white shirt has a matching diagram of the heart that grew three sizes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad you like them!” Betty smiles, producing another pair from behind her back. “I got you some too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead can only laugh at the pure joy written all over her face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She shrugs and hands them over, taking the seat next to him on the couch. “I figured it’d be good portfolio content. There’s no way any boyfriend of mine would get away with plain PJs around Christmas time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead holds the pants up to his face and gives her a wry smile. “Do you really think this is my color, though?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re not getting out of wearing those. So make it quick so we can start this.” When he doesn’t move, Betty lifts an eyebrow at him and he sighs and gets up, knowing this is one fight he’ll never win.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He heads into the bathroom instead, so he can switch his contacts out for his wire-rimmed glasses. He hates the way they look, but his eyes have been dry all day and he can’t take it anymore. Quickly, he slips on the Grinch pajamas, shaking his head at his reflection before heading back into the living room. There are very few people he would wear this for. Really, there’s only one person.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty clasps her hands together when she sees him, her smile wide. “You look so good! I can’t wait to take a picture and send it to Veronica!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Betty’s reaching for her phone, Jughead nearly tackles her. “Yeah, that’s not happening.” He’s practically lying on top of her, pinning her arms down by her sides.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She gives him her wide-eyed puppy face, but by some miracle, he keeps his ground and she drops her phone. “Fine, will you at least take one for me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe.” He moves off of her, grabbing the blanket from behind the couch and throwing it over his legs, his feet resting on the coffee table. Betty shifts so her feet rest along the couch and her back rests against his arm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead laughs, “Please, make yourself comfortable.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty smiles up at him, “You did promise me snuggles yesterday.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He feels slight panic go through him, forgetting he had made that promise. “I suppose you’re, uh, you’re right.” His hand moves to the back of the couch as he opens the blanket and angles his body more towards her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty scoots further into him, not hesitating before resting her head against his shoulder and resting her arm on his thigh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He grabs the remote and presses play, overly redone Christmas music playing through the speakers. Betty looks up at him, and her nose nearly bumps his jaw. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I like when you wear your glasses,” she whispers, almost like it’s a secret.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead tries to control his tone, hoping to god it doesn’t sound as airy as he imagines it is. “Oh yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” The tips of her ears turn red as she hides her face back into his chest. Jughead moves his arm to wrap around her, the palm of his hand resting against the softness of her waist as he pulls her closer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They get through two movies before the stream of sarcastic comments can’t even get them through the cheese of the movies anymore. They switch over to watching the original cartoon Grinch instead, a true Christmas classic. Betty teases him, saying she didn’t know he was an actor when The Grinch shows up for the first time on the screen. He retaliates by tickling her waist. About halfway through, Jughead notices Betty’s breathing has evened out and glances down to see her eyes closed, all tension gone from her expression. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He lets the rest of the movie play, not really paying attention to what’s happening on screen. His heart feels like it’s in overdrive as he tries not to move, in fear of waking her up. His thumb had been subconsciously rubbing circles into her hip, over her shirt, and he hadn’t realized until now. He continues the subtle movement, not wanting to do anything that might break her contentment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As she sleeps against his chest, Jughead allows his gaze to trace her features. Her dark circles are much more prominent than they were a few weeks ago. He wishes he could brush his fingers over them, taking away her exhaustion. She’s been working so hard to prove herself to her superiors that he’s worried she’s going to run herself into the ground. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soft snores rumble against his chest, he begins to draft a plan to help her recognize her hard work. Tomorrow’s his last day of work, so he has plenty of time to kill tomorrow night. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Warmth is a funny thing. When you’re younger, it’s a physical feeling. The sun is warm, hot chocolate is warm, the hands of your friends are warm. But then it becomes an emotion, it becomes a symbol, it becomes a person. The world would not know love without warmth. And Violet, well she would not know warmth if not for...</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I also realized that I forgot a scene I was going to do and so now the graphic for today doesn't match. oops! Hopefully you aren't too disappointed. My brain is kind of all over the place haha</p><p>I hope you liked yesterday's chapter! Stay tuned for today's:)</p><p>tumblr: ithoughtyoulikedmereckless</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. day 6: pinwheel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello friends!</p><p>Okay, so...I need to stop saying I'm going to do things because nothing ever goes as planned. This probably won't be finished by Christmas Eve like I planned, but I'll keep writing it after Christmas.</p><p>I got a little stuck on this chapter but I think I like how it came out!</p><p>I hope you're all doing well!</p><p>rachel</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>pinwheel cookies: </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 1 cup shortening</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 1 ½ cups sugar</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 2 eggs</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 2 tablespoons milk</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 2 teaspoons peppermint extract</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 2-1/2 cups all-purpose flour</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 1/2 teaspoon salt</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 1/2 teaspoon baking powder</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 2 ounces unsweetened chocolate, melted</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>All of the flavors of the pinwheel cookie are wrapped up in one another, making a beautiful and unique pattern. Your snark and grumpiness wrap up the deep love you have for your family; very few recognize it, but when they do, it’s impossible to ignore.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Love, Betty</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bye Chris, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Betty says as she walks past her co-worker’s desk, work bag slung over her shoulder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Actually leaving on time today?” He looks up from his computer and offers her a kind smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty turns around, walking backwards towards the elevator. “My best friend has plans, and she doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sounds nice. Have a good night, Betty.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You too, give my best to Martha.” She gives him a friendly wave before stepping into the elevator. Pressing the third floor button, Betty double checks that she has all her belongings, including the bag Veronica had dropped off for her earlier. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>During Betty’s lunch break, she’d gotten a call from the secretary saying there’d been a bag of clothes dropped off for her. Back at her desk, Betty found a note from Veronica that had instructions to change into the dress in the bag and be waiting for her outside the office at 6:30 sharp. There were no other clues and when Betty had texted her, Veronica simply sent back a string of emojis including the poop, eyes, and a kissy face. Betty had long stopped trying to figure out Veronica's secret plans. It’s always easiest just to go along. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She gets off the elevator, heading for the building’s best bathroom, and finally pulls out the dress Veronica had packed. When she slips it on, the silk of the dress rests softly against her skin and she runs her hands along the fabric and down the skirt. It’s perfectly fitted around her waist and falls loosely around her thighs. Small fabric-covered buttons run down the entire front and the sleeves are long and puffed. Betty shakes her head. One day she’ll get Veronica to stop buying her things. Although, this dress is very her, and she can’t help but love it. Stepping out of the stall, she catches her reflection in the mirror and admits that she looks as good as she feels. The soft pink makes her eyes seem impossibly green. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her ponytail looks a little out of place, so she tugs the scrunchy from her hair and lets the strands fall across her shoulders. Ruffling it a bit, she gives herself one final look over before deeming herself Veronica-worthy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s 6:27 as she puts her arms through her gray wool coat and steps into the elevator again. She’s still a few minutes early when she gets to the front of her building, but she looks around anyway in case Veronica is early. A familiar mop of black hair catches her attention and her heart flutters.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jug?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he turns around, the breath is nearly taken from her. He’s wearing a long navy blue wool coat and he very much fits the part of the hot English teacher, though she’d never tell him that. His glasses sit on the bridge of his nose and his hands are stuffed into his pockets.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Surprise</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he says softly, moving his hands from within his pockets and giving her a shy smile that makes her knees go weak. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Damn, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she has it worse than she thought. “I thought we could go out to dinner?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She’s so taken aback by all of this, the only thing she can think to do is hug him. She nearly runs over to him, a smile stretched wide across her features as he accepts her with open arms. He spins her around and they both laugh. She pulls back, keeping him in an embrace. “So, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>put all this together?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just asked Veronica to grab one of your dresses and drop it off while we were both at work, but she insisted on taking it to Veronica-level heights,” Jughead rolls his eyes fondly, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>So</span>
  </em>
  <span>, let’s go with: I put a good seventy-five percent of this together,” he finishes with a chuckle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty thinks back to the text Veronica had sent her and smiles at her hints. Of course Jughead was the poop emoji. How had she not known?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead pulls back and offers her his arm. “She even made me wear this ridiculous coat. So, we both got new outfits because I asked Ronnie for help with </span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span> thing.” They start to walk down the street, continuing their conversation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Naturally.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Which, you look beautiful, by the way.” He says it quickly and continues on before she can respond, but she still feels her cheeks warm at his words. “I made us reservations earlier at Lavagna because I know how much you love Italian.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She stares at the side of his face, still stunned. “What’s all of this for?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead looks at her and shrugs. “I just want you to realize how much you’ve accomplished. I knew you wouldn’t stop and congratulate yourself, so I’m making you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Jughead</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gives her another shy smile and rolls his eyes like he’s trying to downplay the whole thing. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Betty</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he teases. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty truly can’t think of anything to say to him. This is all </span>
  <em>
    <span>so much</span>
  </em>
  <span> and he’s acting like it’s nothing. The whole thing is so </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jughead</span>
  </em>
  <span> and she doesn’t know how to articulate just how much she’s feeling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He bumps her shoulder like he always does when they’re walking side-by-side and her heart thumps erratically against her chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They fill their walk with talk of little moments throughout their day. Jughead speaks about how irritating his students were today, but she can see the smile behind it all and knows he doesn’t mean a word of it. Apparently he had to fight them off from stealing the pinwheel cookies she had made him for today. The lights in the trees light up the street and make the lines of the city twinkle. At one moment, Betty watches their feet, smiling at their syncopated cadence. Walking up to the restaurant, there’s a line to check in that ends right outside the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead narrates the lives of passerbyers as they wait, creating a tragic backstory full of heartache, sword fights and abandoned family members for the man with the cart of lights. He tugs on her hand, pointing out the man with a scarf two spots ahead of them, speculating that he’s here to break up with his girlfriend while the girlfriend believes he’s going to propose, when in reality, he has plans to run away with his college roommate who had suppressed feelings for him due to internalized homophobia. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty throws her head back in laughter. “Why is everything so dramatic?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s so much more fun that way. You try.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s her turn to tug on his hand, pointing out a woman sitting alone with a book. “I bet she’s a journalist, surveying the romantic scene to write a scalding  expose on her waiter’s secret identity as a beloved prince from a far off country.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead smiles at her. “Oooh, I love the multi-dimensional storyline. Maybe you should give up engineering and write a novel yourself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just might.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s only a few minutes before it’s their turn to be seated. “Hi, I made a reservation under Jones earlier.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just a minute, sir.” The hostess scans the computer and glares at it, looks up at them, and appears to do another scan through before declaring, “You must have the wrong restaurant sir, there is no reservation under Jones. The wait time for walk-ins is about two and a half hours if you wish to wait.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead only sputters, and Betty takes over, thanking the woman and squeezing Jughead's hand as she takes him out of line. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once they’re outside and away from the chaos of the restaurant ambiance Jughead looks at her with wide eyes. “Betts, I’m so sorry! I—I was so sure I made sure the reservations were finalized.” His hand drops hers and he runs his hand through his hair and she knows he’s beating himself up about this. “Apparently I should have gone with sushi.” His mumble is more to himself than to her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She grabs his hand, bringing his attention back to her, and offers him a smile. “I was craving some classic New York pizza anyway, if you’re up for it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead’s stress seems to melt from his body and he returns her smile. “That sounds amazing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ll be the best dressed pair  in the joint,” she says as she tugs him along the sidewalk. “We’ll pretend to be royalty on a long-awaited night out from the palace. We don’t know much about the outside world, so we’re a little overdressed, thinking pizza is the highest luxury of cuisine and dressing accordingly.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“An excellent backstory, you may just put me out of business as the best narrator of everyday lives.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t go that far.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They walk a block before Betty realizes he never dropped her hand. He squeezes, holding her hand tighter. She smiles at the ground, not wanting him to know she’s noticed. Eventually, they come across a small hole-in-the wall pizza place. They peak into the windows and see that it’s empty except for the people behind the counter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This place seems perfect!” She turns to him with a smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Every antisocial’s dream.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They walk in and are immediately greeted with a boisterous greeting from the owner, a short, round Italian man. “Ayyye welcome! I hope you folks are hungry!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Starving,” Jughead responds, helping Betty out of her coat as they settle into a small table to the side of the restaurant. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s barely enough room for ten people to comfortably be in the restaurant, but it’s small in a cozy way. The most amazing smells fill the air and low classic Christmas tunes play on an old stereo. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man comes from behind the counter and stands next to their table, wiping his hands on the apron tied around his waist. “You must have come from a night on the town, an orchestral performance, perhaps?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, we were going to go to a spiffy restaurant but came to our senses and realized that pizza is always the best option. Word on the street is that this is the best pizza in New York.” Betty offers the man a sweet smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh! You’re too kind. This is a romantic night out then? I’ve got just the thing! You’ve come to the right place, let Francesco take care of you!” With that, the man disappears into the kitchen, yelling excited instructions at the others working.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead reaches out a hand, trying to get the man’s attention. “No, actu—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty puts a hand on his arm and he looks at her, confusion written across his face. “Just let the man be, he seems so happy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If he comes out with a heart pizza, I don’t know what I’ll do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty laughs and squeezes his arm before pulling back and picking up a menu. “I’m sure he’ll ask us first. We haven’t even looked at the menu yet.” She picks up the other menu and hands it to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, we’re definitely getting meat lover’s.” He closes the menu, and looks at her with an expression that’s daring her to challenge him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty closes her menu as well and folds her hands on top of it. “What about supreme? It’s the same thing but with vegetables.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely not. I went through complete and utter humiliation not a half hour ago. There is no place for vegetables on this day.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Smiling, Betty laughs. “I’ll give it to you, but only because you’re being so sweet today.” She looks at him through her lashes as she fights the blush coming to her cheeks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just then, Francesco comes whisking in, placing a single candle on the table and lighting it, looking between Betty and Jughead.  “This should be perfect, no?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead clears his throat and offers the man a genuine smile. One that makes Betty’s heart ache.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He orders his meat lover’s pizza and Betty asks for chicken and spinach on the other half of their  large pizza. Francesco is more than happy to oblige and says the mozzarella sticks that Jughead orders are on the house before heading back into the kitchen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead makes fun of her for her so-called obsession with vegetables, only to be met with a dig towards his obsession with mozzarella sticks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You should know by now that I can’t order pizza without mozzarella sticks. But I might share one with you if you ask nicely.” Betty giggles at the pain on his face. “That’s a </span>
  <em>
    <span>strong </span>
  </em>
  <span>maybe, though.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jug!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I'm kidding!” He smirks at her. “Kind of.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty just rolls her eyes and shakes her head at him, her smile still in place, having not left her face since they walked into the restaurant. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead’s all talk because when the mozzarella sticks are brought to their table, he lets her take one first. They compete to see whose sting cheese stretches the longest but dissolve into laughter when Jughead becomes too impatient and pops the whole thing into his mouth.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When their pizza gets to the table, they thank Franseco before digging in. Jughead burns his mouth, not waiting for it to cool or even taking the time to blow on it and Betty pokes fun at him. He nudges her foot under the table and makes an exaggerated grumpy face at her which makes her laugh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, my mom called during my lunch break, she wants us there on Wednesday, something about gingerbread houses with the twins.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As long as I can help you and don’t have to make my own house, I’ll be fine. And by help I mean give words of encouragement and eat all of your supplies,” he says, staring at his pizza like the more intensely he stares, the faster it’ll cool.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She didn’t go into her master plan, but I’m sure that can be arranged.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead seems to deem his pizza cool enough and takes a bite, moaning in satisfaction, his whole posture melting as he closes his eyes and nearly falls out of his chair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty covers her mouth as she giggles at his dramatics. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If Francesco wants my soul, he can have it. This is </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> good.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad we came here instead of Lavagna.” Betty nudges his foot which manages to steal his attention away from his pizza, a miracle really. “You know, you don’t have to try this hard for the portfolio. We can just just take pictures at home and it should be believable enough for my mom.” Betty fiddles with the fork she hadn’t used, not wanting to see the relief that she thinks might be in his expression.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Betty</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” His voice is softer than she was expecting, drawing her eyes to his. “This wasn’t for the portfolio. This was for you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her heart aches at the honesty in his eyes. Betty ducks her head and allows her thoughts to go where she’s stopped them for years now. She sees them holding hands across the table while they come here for monthly dates. She sees him kissing her before they head out the door for work. She sees him in every part of her life. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They end up finishing their meal, Betty convincing Jughead to eat some of her pizza until he claims he’ll die because of the spinach. His death will be on her conscience, apparently. They leave with promises to be back and Betty quickly writes a secret thank you note for Francesco, leaving it on the counter when Jughead turns away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When she gets to the door, Jughead holds it open for her and they step out into the streets of the city once again. Jughead takes her hand and she looks up to his face as he’s looking at the scenery around them. She has the overwhelming urge to show him how much he means to her, so instead of stopping the feeling this time, she rolls up on her tiptoes and places a kiss to his cheek. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She pretends to ignore the blush on his cheeks all the way home, fighting off one of her own.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Whenever the world decides that the best laid plans should go wrong, they don’t, not with him around. Richard’s like the playmaker of her life, turning any misstep into a grand adventure. He’s the side character in the story, the character that many look over, but is often the true hero of the story. The one that saves the day because it’s the right thing to do and not because he gets the girl at the end of the day. He’s the true hero. </span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>These idiots just need to KISS. I realize I'm writing this thing but AHHHHH</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. day 7: peppermint</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello!</p><p>I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas (if you celebrate)! Things have been a little crazy in my house so I haven't had much time to write unfortunately. But I'm back! I hope you're all having a good, but quiet NYE:) I'm currently watching RV with the fam while I edit this, so, having a wild time. This chapter is a little shorter than the others but hopefully you still enjoy it!</p><p>Also, would you guys rather I continue with the plan as it is now and keep the 13 chapters or condense them so the fic ends a little closer to Christmas time?</p><p>Anyway! I wish you all lots of good vibes for the new year:)</p><p>rachel</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>chocolate peppermint cookies:</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 2 cups all-purpose flour</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 3/4 cups unsweetened cocoa powder</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 1 teaspoon baking soda</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 1/4 teaspoon salt</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 1 cup packed light brown sugar</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 3/4 cups sugar</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 2 eggs</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 2 teaspoons vanilla extract</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 2 cups chocolate chips</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Chocolate and peppermint are quite the iconic duo, some would argue beyond reproach. The only pairing I believe to be more iconic is strawberry and chocolate, our favorite milkshake flavors. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Love, Betty</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~~~</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Betts, this was a horrendous idea,” Jughead says, clinging to the side of the ice rink for dear life as 6-year-old hockey kids whiz past him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aw, you’re doing great, Juggie,” Betty smiles, doing a perfect spin stop right in front of him and really rubbing his short-comings in his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the words leave her beautiful lips, Jughead loses any semblance of balance and his skates slip out from under him, ass colliding hard with the ice. He looks up at her, scowling. To her credit, Betty at least tries to hide her giggles, but she doesn’t do a very good job. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She offers him a hand and pulls him back up. “Just hold onto my hand and you’ll be fine. I’ll catch you so you won’t fall again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How noble of you,” he says dryly, wobbling once again and gripping her hand much too tightly to be comfortable. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Taking both his hands, Betty easily begins skating backwards, helping him to stay on his feet as she drags him around the rink.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Now you’re just showing off,” he grumbles, watching his skates, hoping it will help him to keep balance. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe if you had come skating with me all the other times I asked you over the past three years, you’d be a pro by now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead looks up at her only to slip and shoot his gaze back to his feet. “Yeah, well. It’s cold. I don’t like it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re such a wimp,” she says, her tone tinged with fondness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hey</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She laughs, loud and joyous, and he hopes she keeps poking fun at him, if only to hear that unabashedly happy sound again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How’d you get so good anyway?” he asks, still staring down at his feet, not stupid enough to try and look forward again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My dad used to be on the ice hockey team in high school so he taught me. Polly never liked the cold but, you know, I love it, so it was usually just the two of us. We used to go out to a little pond in the back of our house whenever it froze over.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Usually, when Betty talks about her family, it’s about something her mother has done that causes a month or so of stress baking to get over. He loves getting little pieces from her childhood, slowly piecing together how his Betty Cooper has come to be. He thinks that on some level, hearing her happy childhood memories should make him bitter or maybe even resentful, though it never does. On the contrary, he’s greedy for the little memories. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe…” Jughead risks the chance of falling to scan her face, “maybe we can skate when we’re home for Christmas.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His heart thumps against his chest at the soft look that comes into her eyes. He enjoys their moment for exactly two seconds before his skate hits a bump in the ice and he totally wipes out, hands slipping from Betty’s. He ends up on his stomach and slides a few inches along the ice. If he were an outsider watching himself fall, he would not hesitate to point and laugh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hears Betty snort, her laughter reaching uncontrollable, but he appreciates her attempt at trying to ask him if he’s okay. That’s at least what he thinks she’s trying to say. The shaved ice is starting to melt and sink into his clothes and  he’s regretting ever giving into her big, doe eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks for catching me,” he says, looking up at her from the ground.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty’s hand covers her mouth and he sees tears in her eyes as she continues to laugh. “I’m so sorry, Jug.” She extends her hands to him and  helps pull him up. She skates behind him, hands on his waist, guiding him to the break in barriers around the rink. “We can go home now, thanks for indulging me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re sitting side by side on the bench, thighs touching as they unlace their skates. Jughead nudges her legs with his own and she nudges back. He smiles down at his stupid rented skates. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know, one of these days I’m going to get myself killed trying to participate in your hobbies.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty already has one of her skates off while he’s still struggling with his first one. “Come on, you at least had a little fun didn’t you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He decides to be a little cheeky. After last night, he knows there’s definitely something more than friendship between them and he sincerely hopes she feels the same.  “I mean,” he’s still not brave enough to look at her, “I did get to hold your hand, so there are worse activities to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Jug.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sneaks a look at her. The tips of her ears are pink and she’s staring at her unlaced skate intently. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead turns back to his own skates and loves the feeling of the erratic thumps against his chest. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>…</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, so,” Betty’s standing in the middle of their living room, gifts and wrapping supplies littering the floor as she holds out her hands, “wrapping paper is over there, that’s station one. I’ll do that because it’s not your strong suit.” She points to the corner where the scissors, tape and 3 rolls of wrapping paper sit. “ Then we’ve got ribbon and labels over there, which hopefully, you can do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Way to knock a guy down a few pegs, Betts.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t seem to notice he’s said anything, her mind in Operation Christmas mode as she continues to explain the layout. “Then, station 3 is over there where the big cardboard boxes are. We’ll stick the wrapped presents in there and kinda tetris them so they all fit for maximum storage efficiency.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A lot of their friends find this side of Betty to be absolutely terrifying. Jughead just thinks it’s hot. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jug, are you listening to me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Jughead shakes his head, meeting Betty’s intense stare, and gives her an easy smile. “Yeah. Bow duty, got it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty seems satisfied with his answers because she sits down and starts to rip the plastic wrap off the wrapping paper. Jughead takes a spot next to her, sitting closer than is probably necessary. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to wrap my dad’s presents first because he doesn’t really care what they look like. It’ll give you good practice for when we get to my moms.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tries not to be offended. He thinks his bow tying skills are pretty excellent, but he gets it. It’s fine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know you’re trying not to be upset about my lack of faith in your bow skills,” she says, now fitting and cutting the wrapping paper for a box he assumes has the sweater she got for him in it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you dare say ‘it’s not you, it’s me’. My bows deserve better than that.” Jughead jests.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I love your bows, they’re beautiful.” Betty leans over and kisses his cheek and he can’t protest such a compelling argument. “ My mom just… has really high expectations. I’m sure it would be fine—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead reaches over and places a hand on her arm. “Hey, I’ll make the best damn bows you’ve ever seen. If they aren’t good enough, you have my full permission to make them better. Okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” She places her hand on top of his and squeezes. “Okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They chatter about as they settle into a rhythm, wrapping, taping and labeling the presents. Betty had already written the names of her family on the labels so the only thing Jughead needs to do is stick them onto the gifts. He’s incredibly grateful, since his students relentlessly bother him for his, in their words, “ratchet” handwriting. Every once in a while there’s a lull while he waits for Betty to finish wrapping, so he ties a bow and sticks it somewhere on her shirt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Jug,” she says, unamused, but her smile betrays her true feelings. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s about to say something snarky about adding spice to her life when she has an incoming FaceTime call from her mom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looks up with him with wide eyes. “Pretend you aren’t here. We can’t blow our cover until we’re there and she can’t say no.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Without waiting for his response, Betty picks up the phone and Alice’s shrill voice comes through the speaker. “Hi darling, how are you doing?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m great, mom. I’m working on wrapping everyone’s gifts, actually.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead doesn’t know if he’s allowed to breathe or not, so he goes with no and holds his breath. A minute later however he realizes what a horrendous plan that is. Betty glares at him when he apparently breathes too loudly and he widens his eyes and makes a desperate face at her trying to relay his apologies. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is there someone with you, Betty?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sees the panic flash through Betty’s eyes before she stands up and waves her arm at him trying to do the same. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, um, why would you ask?” She’s doing a horrible job playing this off naturally. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just thought I heard something,” Alice pauses and Betty tries to gesture for him to do something using only her eyes, widening them and then looking at him and then the door. “Plus, you have little bows all over you, I can’t imagine you’d do that yourself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ohh, yeah,” Betty lets out a forced chuckle as she grabs Jughead’s arm and starts to shove him towards the door, all while keeping a smile on her face and keeping her phone still. “My boyfriend was helping me, but he’s running to the store to grab more tape now, he just has to grab shoes and he’s good to go.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead resists and glares at Betty because she’s not, in fact, letting him grab his shoes. “What the heck are you doing?” he mouths at her, very much not wanting to leave the warmth of their apartment and go out into their hallways without his shoes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s wonderful! What a kind boy he must be. Let me say hello before he leaves.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They both stop their wrestling and stare at each other at Alice’s words. Jughead’s heart drops into his stomach. If he leaves now, Alice will think he’s rude and their ruse will go even worse than it’s probably going to go anyway. But if he says hello, the whole thing will blow up and Alice might not let them stay for Christmas. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh, sure just give me a second.” Betty moves her phone to her side and grabs his hand a little forcefully. “Kiss me,” she says through gritted teeth, eyes wide. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead stares at her dumbly. By kiss her does she mean on the cheek, on the lips, or like maybe even the forehead? Is he kissing her and running, is he kissing her so Alice gets uncomfortable and hangs up? The plan is really unclear. But then again, she said “kiss me” so, that’s… neat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She rolls her eyes and at him and brings the phone back to her face, giving her mom a small pout. “His Uber is here, so he can’t chat. He’s headed out the door now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uber?” Jughead mouths, because neither him nor Betty have ever taken an Uber to go to the grocery store. Rather than get a response, Betty just pulls his hand, bringing him closer to her which he assumes is his signal. He leans in, careful not to get his face too much into the frame and places a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth, eyes fluttering shut. When he pulls back, Betty’s gaze is glued to his lips before he clears his throat, bringing her intense eyes to his own. Her lips are parted every so slightly. A small puff of air leaves her and washes over his chin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His hands feel a little clammy, his heart hammering so hard against his chest he fears Mrs. Cooper might be able to hear it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, sweetheart, he’s a gem!” Alice’s excitement breaks through the haze they both seem to be in and Betty snaps back into action. Before he can fully get his brain, heart and body back in order, Betty’s opening the door and shoving him out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Little terrifies Violet like trying new things. The uncertainty swallows her like how children believe quicksand might around every turn they take. Trying new things creates vulnerability, something that is wholly terrifying for being something that by definition is minimal. With Richard, trying new things becomes an adventure. It becomes a way to understand even more about him. It’s a way to find new pieces of him to love.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next chapter, things start to...escalate lol</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. day 8: thumbprint</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hi friends! </p><p>Things are HAPPENING.</p><p>rachel</p><p>(p.s. this is today's recipe! They're super good, I'm probably going to make some tomorrow.)</p><p>https://www.kingarthurbaking.com/recipes/lemon-raspberry-thumbprints-recipe</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> thumbprint cookies: </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ~ 16 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ~ 1 cup granulated sugar </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ~ 1 tablespoon grated lemon zest or 1/4 teaspoon lemon oil </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ~ 1 teaspoon vanilla extract </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ~ ½ teaspoon salt </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ~ 1 large egg </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ~ 2 ¾ cups all-purpose flour </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ~ ½  cup raspberry jam </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> The imprint you have on my life is as unique as the swirls that make up my thumbprint.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Love, Betty </em>
</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> The kiss. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Okay, no, it wasn’t a kiss. </p><p> </p><p>At best, it was a peck, and it didn’t even make it to her lips, so can she really call it a kiss? More like a kiss adjacent? But definitely not a kiss.</p><p> </p><p>Clearly, Betty can’t stop thinking about it. </p><p> </p><p>She’s staring at the shoes in her closet, trying to pick out a pair to wear to Veronica’s Christmas party, but she can’t, her mind otherwise occupied. </p><p> </p><p>“Do we have to go to this?” Betty hears Jughead’s muffled voice as he walks down the hallway, his voice getting louder as he stops in the doorframe of her bedroom. </p><p> </p><p>Betty feels heat bloom across her cheeks, like he can read her thoughts, and tries to rub it away before turning around in time to see Jughead in the doorway, head popping out of the head hole of his grey sweater, his hair sticking up in several places, not yet concealed by his beanie.  “One day, you might actually want to go to something that our friends are hosting,” Betty says as she smiles, turning back to her closet. </p><p> </p><p>Jughead walks into her room and throws an arm around her. “That, my darling, will probably never happen.” Betty makes a face at him and he laughs. “Not the one?”</p><p> </p><p>“Why don’t you just stick to something normal like babe. Or maybe baby, if you’re feeling adventurous?” She lifts his hand off her shoulder and drops it before stepping into her closet to pick up a pair of strappy black heels. </p><p> </p><p>“Where’s your imagination? We could use this moment to bring <em> my pet </em> back.”</p><p> </p><p>“I won’t hesitate to smack you if you call me that.” Betty turns around and lifts the shoes up for Jughead to see. “ Too cold?”</p><p> </p><p>“Absolutely.” </p><p> </p><p>Betty puts the shoes back and continues to scan her options. Earlier, Betty had mentioned in passing that they should probably use pet names (only sparingly, of course, because her family is weird about PDA) when they visit. Betty has it easy, opting for <em> Juggie </em> , the slightly more intimate version of his name. Jughead had refused to go with the easy route of <em> Betts </em>, so he’s been brainstorming since then. </p><p> </p><p>“You know, I’m liking the sound of <em> toots </em>,” he says, making her gag reflex act up. </p><p> </p><p>Betty chucks the black high-top Converse in her hand at him and he nearly dodges it, tripping on her carpet in the process. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m gonna go with no on that one, then?”</p><p> </p><p>Laughing, Betty tells him, “Your powers of observation astound me, Jughead.” She tosses the other Converse on the bed. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, how you flatter me,” Jughead says, picking up the tossed Converse and placing it with the other one as he takes a seat. “Did Veronica buy you another dress for the evening?”</p><p> </p><p>“Actually, no, I was allowed to pick out my own dress. This one’s all me.” Betty takes her dress from the closet and rips the tag off, motioning for him to turn around while she changes. He gets up and spins around quickly, cupping his hands against the side of his face on his walk over to the other side of her bed. He plops down facing away from her and picks up <em> Rebecca </em>from her bedside table and begins to flip through it. </p><p> </p><p>Betty had spent the afternoon with Veronica trying to find dresses that coordinated with one another. <em> Betty I’m red, you’re green. It’s a must! Think of the pictures. </em> Veronica had ended up with a deep red sequined romper while Betty went for a simpler green velvet flare dress. Thanks to her  afternoon with Veronica, Betty has chaos on her mind and turns to Jughead once the dress is over her head and settled into place, black bralette peeking along the edges. Being from Forever XXI makes it a little shorter than her usual attire and <em> much </em> more risque in the chest area. “Whaddya think?”</p><p> </p><p>Jughead turns and the book slips from his hands, thumping to the ground. “<em> Goddamn </em>, baby.”</p><p> </p><p>Her heart stutters at the term of endearment that seems to accidentally slip from his lips. It only emboldens her more and she holds out her hands to show off the dress, doing a few small twists to make the skirt swish around her thighs. </p><p> </p><p>There’s no harm in teasing him a little further. “I didn’t have the chance to try it on in the store. Do you think it’s too booby?” Betty struggles to keep the nerves out of her voice, trying to remain completely in control. </p><p> </p><p>“<em> No </em>!” His eyes flicker over her, his gaze lingering on her chest but quickly moving to her chin.  I mean—um—no. No, they look really—uh—your—um—” His eyes flicker downwards again, until he forces his gaze up, dropping his head back to stare up at the ceiling.  He lets out a strangled laugh before looking at her again. “You look really great, Betts.” </p><p> </p><p>She feels the tips of her ears glowing, thankfully covered by her hair. Offering him a bright smile and trapping her lower lip between her teeth to stop it from growing, she whispers, “Thanks, Juggie.” She barely hears her own voice over the rushing in her ears.</p><p> </p><p>He mumbles a reply she can’t quite make out, but she thinks he says something about water. He avoids her eyes as he awkwardly points to her bedroom door and sees himself out. </p><p> </p><p>Betty giggles to herself  and slips on some gingerbread man socks before heading into the bathroom to curl her hair. </p><p> </p><p>As she’s shaking out her curls to get them to fall naturally, Jughead knocks lightly on the open door before coming in and hopping up onto the counter. He seems fully recovered from the frazzled state he left her bedroom in.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, I just wanted to poke you about the time. My bad habits are rubbing off on you, we only have fifteen minutes and here you are, still getting ready,” Jughead teases, pinching a small piece of her hair and tugging gently before letting go and watching the curl spring back. </p><p> </p><p>Betty swats his hand away and pushes his thigh to the side in order to get to her eyeshadow palette on the counter. “I’m holding Veronica responsible. She took an hour longer to pick out her romper so I didn’t have my full recharge time.”</p><p> </p><p>Leaning towards the mirror, Betty dusts a subtle gold shadow across her lids, and feels his gaze on her. Shifting her attention away from what she’s doing, her eyes meet his in the mirror. She fights a blush when his gaze snaps to the shower curtain when he’s caught. </p><p> </p><p>Betty holds the open shadow palette out to him, waving the brush towards his face. “You want some? It’ll bring out your eyes.”</p><p> </p><p>Jughead lets out a cute little laugh and offers her a boyish grin. “I think I’ll pass tonight. Wouldn’t want to take any attention away from you.”</p><p> </p><p>Betty scrunches her nose at him and pushes his leg lightly before turning back to brush mascara along her lashes. </p><p> </p><p>She finishes up her makeup and runs into her room, slipping on her Converse before they head out the door. Jughead’s hand rests against her lower back for the entire elevator ride.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Veronica’s a little tipsy already when she opens the door, and they aren’t allowed onto the premises without taking a shot first, the tone for the night set immediately. </p><p> </p><p>Betty’s hit with a wall of heat and festive noise when she finally enters the apartment. It’s already packed with people, faces both familiar and not. Veronica had been really involved during college, dabbling in a number of clubs, never for very long but always enough to make quite a few friends. Her longest commitments were a sorority for a year and student government for three, and she manages to keep up with <em> everyone </em>. </p><p> </p><p>Betty instinctively grabs Jughead’s hand after Veronica tells them the gang is in the kitchen, knowing his discomfort in large crowds. She drags him through the maze of people, peeking behind her only to be rewarded with a subtle smile that makes the butterflies in her stomach act up. </p><p> </p><p>Reggie spots them first and throws his arms up in greeting. “Betty-B and J-Man! I missed you guys <em> so </em>much.” He envelopes them in a hug, crushing them together. Betty’s face gets smooshed against his massive bicep. </p><p> </p><p>“Hi Reg, you get a head start?” Betty asks, patting his arm once he finally releases her and Jughead. </p><p> </p><p>“Always,” he says, wide grin plastered across his face.</p><p> </p><p>Betty shakes her head at him, amazed at how well his body functions considering how much alcohol he consumes. She takes a spot next to Trev once she hugs everyone else, standing opposite Josie who’s leaning against the counter between her date’s legs, holding her arms where they sit around her shoulders. Josie’s introduced Cheryl to the group a few times, and from what Betty can tell, she’s a little intense but compliments Josie’s passion for life well. </p><p> </p><p>Jughead hops onto the island next to Betty and she rests an arm on his thigh after handing him one of the cups of some kind of punch (which she’s assuming is very much spiked) that Trev had handed over. </p><p> </p><p>Usually Cheryl dominates the conversation when she’s around but she’s in the middle of a discussion with someone Betty doesn’t recognize. Archie and Veronica are making the  rounds and Sweet Pea hasn’t shown up yet, so Reggie carries the conversation with his exuberance about an old student government buddy of Veronica’s that he’s trying to get up the courage to talk to. </p><p> </p><p>“Dude, who wouldn’t want to talk to you?” Trev slaps him on the back, trying to hype him up. </p><p> </p><p>Josie pipes in, “And worst case scenario, he’s not into the conversation and you won’t see him again until next year. But best case, you get to make out with someone hot.”</p><p> </p><p>“Doesn’t hurt to try,” Betty says, offering him a supportive smile, “and we’ll be here if you need us.”</p><p> </p><p>Reggie downs the drink in his hand and slams it on the table. “You guys are <em> so </em> right. I’m <em> hot shit </em> . He’s going to <em> love </em>me.”</p><p> </p><p>“There ya go, bud.” Jughead gives his shoulder a reassuring slap as Reggie passes him on his way out of the kitchen. </p><p> </p><p>Once Reggie’s out of ear shot, Betty tilts her head up to look at Jughead. “Was that a note of encouragement I just heard come from you?” she teases.</p><p> </p><p>Jughead rolls his eyes at her. “I do have the capacity to be a good friend once in a while, you know.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really?” Josie cuts in, as she looks at him over the drink she’s holding up to her mouth.  “Could’ve fooled me.” Her tone is teasing but Betty knows Jughead's going to take the comment to heart.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, well,” Jughead mumbles, his shoulders deflating just enough that she’s positive no one else will notice, his eyes stuck to the floor. </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know, Jug,” she pinches his leg and enjoys watching him squirm, “you’re a little prickly on the outside, but there’s a big heart behind the spikes. You’re our hedgehog.”</p><p> </p><p>Trev laughs from his spot next to her. “Jughead really is our hedgehog. I didn’t see the dude smile for the first month of our friendship.”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s definitely the best person to have around when an ex does something shitty. I’ve never seen someone get so mad over a break-up text that wasn’t sent to them,” Josie chuckles.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, okay,” Jughead rests his hands against the edge of the counter, his left hand right behind Betty’s back. He rubs his knuckle where it hits at her lower back out of sight of the rest of their friends. “Enough! It's better when you all tell me how much of an asshole I am. Let’s go back to that. Enough mushy stuff.”</p><p> </p><p>Betty’s about to keep embarrassing him, but Jughead’s saved when Sweet Pea enters the kitchen. “Jughead’s an asshole? Tell me something I don’t know.” He laughs, throwing an arm around Jughead in greeting, jostling him around a bit. </p><p> </p><p>Conversation flows from there, jovial jabs being made between friends and roaring laughter interrupting surrounding conversations. Veronica sweeps in offering shots every once in a while and encourages them to mingle. Her suggestions are, of course, vigorously ignored each time. Archie eventually joins them, having put in his time as an exemplary boyfriend. </p><p> </p><p>As the night goes on, somehow, Reggie is able to convince them all to dance after he gets bored with the guy he was talking to, even though it’s definitely not that kind of party and no one else is dancing. Betty blames it on the tequila Veronica keeps shoving at them. </p><p> </p><p>She and Jughead have been trading subtle touches since they had walked through the door, his hand at her back or her fingers tugging at his wrist. She’s sure it’s just the charged atmosphere and his discomfort with the large crowd, but her mind keeps coming back to it, reminding her how much she’s enjoying the attention. His hands are currently circled around the front of her waist having pulled her away from Trev, demanding she dance with him because Josie made fun of his dad moves. Betty pulls his arms around her tighter, throwing her head back in a laugh at the pouty look on his face. The back of her head hits his shoulder and he crupples into giggles, smiling into her neck. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s overly popified Christmas music. You can’t do much other than dad moves,” she laughs.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s why you’re my favorite, Cooper.”</p><p> </p><p>Archie throws his arms around both of them, claiming they have to all be single together since Veronica has abandoned him. Betty breaks away from Jughead’s arms so they’re able to include Archie a little easier. The juxtaposition of Jughead’s pout and Archie’s boyish grin makes Betty fall into a fit of giggles all over again. </p><p> </p><p>Eventually Archie’s able to drag Veronica away from her hostess duties and convinces her to hang out with them. She happily does so, demanding that Betty take pictures with her and shoving her phone into Jughead’s hands. Archie has been banned from being the group photographer after one too many blurry and weirdly-cropped photos. Plus, a drunk Jughead is a great hype man and he always manages to capture their smiles at their biggest. Her pictures with Veronica border on inappropriate and they’re both very proud of them. </p><p> </p><p>It’s around midnight when the majority of the guests start to trickle out, anticipating work in the morning. Everyone in their friend group had preemptively taken tomorrow off if their Christmas vacation hadn’t started yet, knowing how drunk they always get at this party. </p><p> </p><p>“Guys,” Trev spins around to face them all, eyes bright with excitement, “I have the absolute <em> best </em> idea.”  He doesn’t wait for anyone to ask what it is, sharing his grand scheme immediately. “We <em> need </em>to play seven minutes in heaven.”</p><p> </p><p>Everyone shares a look, staying quiet for a moment and then breaking into enthusiastic cheers. Sweet, quiet, good Trev would never have a bad idea. Only good things will come from this idea. </p><p> </p><p>Reggie grabs an empty beer bottle from the coffee table while the rest of the group settles into a circle, ignoring any stragglers who haven’t left yet. Betty sits next to Veronica, who leans against her immediately and presses a kiss to her cheek. Archie sits on the other side of her next to Jughead. Cheryl had left a little while ago so Josie takes a spot in between Sweet Pea and Trev. As Reggie places the bottle in the middle of the circle, Sweet Pea suggests that Betty go first. “She’s our good girl, I think we should corrupt her first.”</p><p> </p><p> Just because she’s responsible doesn’t mean she’s <em> boring </em>.  “I resent that, but I’ll still go first,” Betty agrees easily, feeling a little defiant at the comment. </p><p> </p><p>Veronica squeals next to her, clapping happily. “That’s my Betty-boo!”</p><p> </p><p>Reaching forward, Betty grabs the bottle, letting out a long breath before giving it a good spin. She sits back on her heels, watching it go round and round, anxiety building in her stomach. Everyone has ridiculously giddy expressions on their face. The last time they played this was their freshman year of college as Veronica’s idea of an icebreaker. Then, she was able to get out of it because she had a nasty cold. No such luck now. </p><p> </p><p>The bottle slows, stopping on her roommate. A wave of relief washes through her until he sees his wide eyes. </p><p> </p><p>Neither one of them moves, Betty stares at him, waiting for him to look at her. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, if you’re not going to do it, I’ll kiss her.” Reggie nearly shouts, having no awareness over his volume.</p><p> </p><p>Jughead’s head snaps towards Reggie, his jaw clenched. He seems to do some instant mental calculations and abruptly stands, grabbing Betty’s hand. Hoots and hollers erupt from the group once more as Jughead drags her towards the closet. </p><p> </p><p>He hasn’t looked at her once, but she’s entirely focused on the warmth of his hand and how the sensation seems to be sending sparks through her body. Jughead only drops her hand once they both make it into the cramped space, dim lights flickering on. </p><p> </p><p>She should ignore the disappointment she feels when he drops it, but instead she decides to focus on it, determined to do something. </p><p> </p><p>He breaks the tense silence first. “We don’t actually have to do this.” Jughead rubs the back of his neck, staring down at the ground and facing the back of the closet.</p><p> </p><p>“Um, hell yeah, we do.” Betty says, leaning against her hands on the door until it clicks shut. </p><p> </p><p>“Right, so it’s totally coo—” Jughead does a double take, staring at her like she’s spoken a forgein language. “Wait, what?”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you <em> crazy </em>? We have to do this. Don’t be a wuss.” Betty tosses her hair over her shoulder and crosses her arms in front of her.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry,” Jughead glares at her. “<em> I’m </em> crazy?”</p><p> </p><p>Betty closes the space between them, adrenaline coursing through her as she grabs the collar of his button up, him having lost his sweater to the heat of the room about an hour ago. “I’m not losing.” Bringing her lips millimeters from his, she stares directly into his eyes. “They won’t ever shut up about it if we don’t. We’re going to win so hard, they’ll be embarrassed they brought this game up in the first place.”</p><p> </p><p>Jughead raises an eyebrow at her. “You can’t win at this game.”</p><p> </p><p>Betty pushes against his chest, making him stumble closer to the wall. “<em> Watch me </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“Your competitiveness really pops out when you drink, have you ever noticed that?” His hands seem to be drawn to her, finding a place on her waist. It feels normal, like they’ve done this a million times. His eyes are glued to her lips. Unconsciously, she licks them and watches his pupils grow in the dim light of the closet. </p><p> </p><p>“What can I say?” Betty smiles at him, pressing his body up against the wall. “Winning is <em> thrilling </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>His fingers squeeze her waist. She watches his Adam's apple bob as he swallows. </p><p> </p><p>Betty grazes her bottom lip up his jaw, raising on tiptoes to reach his ear. “You’re supposed to be my boyfriend, remember?” Betty hears his breath hitch and she smiles against him. “Prove it.”</p><p> </p><p>Running her hands from where they rest on his chest up to his neck, thumb against his jaw, she pulls back from him to look into his eyes and make sure he’s in this as much as she is. His eyes are intense and a darker blue than she’s ever seen them. He smirks, and she nearly melts into a puddle. </p><p> </p><p>Then, he’s kissing her,  grabbing her waist tighter and pulling her into his body, like he can’t imagine being any farther away from her. It’s close-mouthed, and all lips, both still hesitantly exploring. Betty pulls back for a moment, leaving a soft kiss against his mouth and then another, slowing down her own heartbeat. </p><p> </p><p>“You okay with this?” she whispers, gripping onto his biceps. </p><p> </p><p>“Are <em> you </em>okay with this?” he whispers back, tugging on a curl that frames her face. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m okay if you’re okay.” Her eyes search his for anything that might resemble hesitation. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m okay.”</p><p> </p><p>Betty smiles, and that’s apparently response enough for Jughead because his lips are back on hers within a second. </p><p> </p><p>After that, there’s not much thinking. </p><p> </p><p>His tongue slips into her mouth and their kiss tastes like the tequila shots they’d taken at the beginning of the game. Mixed with the smell of him, it makes Betty light-headed. It’s utterly intoxicating.</p><p> </p><p>Her hands grip his face, pulling him even closer. She nibbles his bottom lip, drawing out a low groan from the back of his throat—a noise that sends chills through her—and she can’t help but smile against his lips, moving to nip at his neck. Betty pushes against him further, sliding her hands to his waist, and then lower still to grip onto his belt, her fingers slipping into the top of his pants. </p><p> </p><p>As she’s sucking at his pulse point, Jughead presses into her hands with a moan. “<em> Betts.”  </em></p><p> </p><p>When he tries to push his hips into hers, she decides to tease him and move her hips away, pressing a searing kiss to his mouth. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re enjoying this power trip, aren’t you?” Jughead chuckles into her mouth. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s conceivable.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s a big word, Coop. Your brain isn’t nearly mushy enough. We should fix that.” As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Jughead is everywhere. He grabs her hands from his belt and holds them to her back, pulls her hips into his while leaning into her mouth, dipping her backwards with his fervor. </p><p> </p><p>Once he releases her mouth, she pants, “You’re an English teacher, don’t big words get you going?” </p><p> </p><p>“You have no idea.”</p><p> </p><p>Betty manages to get her hand back from his grip and tugs mercilessly at the buttons of his shirt, impatiently pulling the two sides away from each other in a frenzy to get to more of his skin. The top button flies off and Betty stops in her tracks, knowing this is one of his favorite shirts. “I—” </p><p> </p><p>Her words are swallowed by Jughead’s mouth. “That button is the last thing I’m thinking about right now.” He kisses her once more and she allows herself to melt into him completely, any thought of the lost button gone with every other rational thought that had been trying to keep vacancy in her mind. </p><p> </p><p>Somehow, they end up on the other side of the closet, Betty now pressed up against the wall, Jughead’s lean body covering hers. His fingers trace the lines of her dress, just barely grazing, leaving her skin burning in their wake. The path of his fingertips leaves her flushed and on edge, needing so much more than he’s giving. </p><p> </p><p>Betty runs her fingers into his hair, loving the absence of his pesky beanie. “Kiss me like your life depends on it.” She pants against his lips, lightly tugging on the strands tangled in her fingers.</p><p> </p><p>His lips trace a trail from her mouth to along her jaw to the spot just behind her ear, causing a shiver to travel through her. He chuckles into her skin. “You’re <em> bossy </em>.” </p><p> </p><p>“<em> Bite me. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>Jughead pulls back, his hair falling into his eyes and a wicked glint crossing his expression. “Your wish is my command.” He brushes his lips against hers and smiles when she tries to chase them as he pulls away. Tilting her head to the side, he opens up a new expanse of skin for himself to explore. His teeth graze the side of her neck and Betty lets out a soft giggle that quickly morphs into a deep moan when he <em> actually </em>bites her. </p><p> </p><p>His hands splay out, like he’s trying to touch as much of her as possible all at once. They slide from her waist and over her ass, stopping to squeeze, which makes Betty drop her head into the crook of his shoulder and let out a soft giggle. Her heart warms at the playfulness still found in the intensity of the moment. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s a good ass, babe. Can’t ignore it.” </p><p> </p><p>He gives her another playful squeeze before his hands slip down to the tops of her thighs, skin hitting skin, and she’s dizzy with the sensation. Without much warning, Jughead hoists her up and presses her into the wall, pressing a desperate kiss to her lips. Betty’s head falls back, hitting the wall with a soft thunk. The right strap of her dress slips off her shoulder, something Jughead seems to be acutely aware of as a strangled <em> God </em> passes his lips. Betty pushes his head towards the juncture of her neck and he immediately begins to suck at the skin he finds there. She arches into his mouth as he follows the v-neck of her dress with his lips. </p><p> </p><p>When he pauses at the swell of her breasts, Betty’s heart thunders against her chest and her breath hitches. She looks down and meets his eyes, alight with lust, but also something that looks a little like—<em> wow. </em> Whatever it was is not important now, not when his teeth and lips and tongue are doing <em> that </em>. </p><p> </p><p>“<em> Fuck, </em>baby.” Jughead drags his bottom lip back up her breast until he brings his mouth to hers once again. “That lace is gonna be the death of me.”</p><p> </p><p>Regardless of the alcohol in her system, she’s drunk off of <em> him </em> . She pulls his face as close as she can to hers without disrupting their kiss, desperate to drink in all of him. “Then you really don’t want to know about the <em> other </em>piece of lace.” </p><p> </p><p>Jughead lets out a strangled moan, one that verges on tortured. “You can’t say things like that if you want to make it out of here.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Maybe I don’t.”  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Jughead’s head drops to her shoulder and his erratic breath fans across her already hyper-sensitive skin. Betty pulls his face from her shoulder again and presses three soft kisses to his lips before pressing another to his nose. He flicks his gaze up to meet hers and she gives him a slight nod when she feels his fingertips grazing the inside of her thigh. </p><p> </p><p>He captures her lips in another all encompassing kiss while his fingers hover at the edge of the lace. </p><p> </p><p>A loud bang rattles the door and Jughead nearly drops Betty from her place against the wall. </p><p> </p><p>“<em> Fuck </em>.” They curse in unison. Jughead rests his forehead against the wall above her shoulder and Betty presses her palms to the wall, trying to reground herself. </p><p> </p><p>Reggie’s voice comes from the other side of the door. “Did you guys finally suck face? I’m sure it took you all seven minutes to get the guts to do it.”</p><p> </p><p>Jughead steps away from Betty, gently placing her fallen strap back onto her shoulder. They do a quick scan of one another and burst into laughter at their disheveled state.</p><p> </p><p>“Reggie’s in for the surprise of his life,” Betty giggles. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, you’re going to have to stand in front of me for a while. I really don’t need to be kicked out for public indecency.”</p><p> </p><p>Laughing, Betty does her best to comb through his hair while he readjusts her dress and fixes a few pieces of her hair as well. </p><p> </p><p>Another few pounds are hit against the door and they take that as their cue to leave. Betty tugs on his hand and makes sure to shield his <em> problem </em>with her body. As soon as they step out of the door, they’re met with the curious eyes of all their drunk friends. </p><p> </p><p>Every single one of their jaws drops open once they process Betty and Jughead’s disheveled state. </p><p> </p><p>“So… did we win?”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Everything about him is electrifying. Richard’s touch sends currents coursing through Violet’s body, breathing life into every dark corner. His piercing eyes dare her into bliss. And his kiss? His kiss is like the first breath of air after coming up from swimming from the other side of the pool—reinflating excitement into life’s mundane tendencies. </em>
</p><p>
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</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>soooooooo...</p><p>I hope you liked the chapter! Only 4 more to go!! I hope you all are doing well:)</p><p>Also, I read your comments and I love them all (I'll respond soon). The general consensus is to continue with all 13 chapters so that's what we'll do!</p><p>Let me know your thoughts! Your feelings! I want it all!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. day 9: pizzelles</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi friends!</p><p>It's time to deal with the mess they got themselves into in the last chapter!! Both my betas were yelling at me the whole way through so...hopefully you won't hate me too much.</p><p>I hope you enjoy!</p><p>rachel</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>pizzelle cookies:</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 3 large eggs</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ ¾ cup sugar</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ ⅜ teaspoon salt</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 1 teaspoon vanilla</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 1 ¾ cups of all purpose flour</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 2 teaspoons baking powder</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 8 tablespoons butter, melted</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re the first one I want to talk to about anything. Anything bad, anything good, anything mundane. Sharing my thoughts with you makes them so much more. You are the design on my pizzelle (of life), making something ordinary seem like something exquisite. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Love, Betty</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~~~</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead closes his eyes as the hot stream of water from the showerhead soothes the sore muscles in his neck and travels down his back. He hadn’t bothered to look at himself in the mirror when getting into the shower, choosing instead to continue in willful ignorance to the mess he’d taken part in last night. Turning to grab his shampoo, Jughead lets the uneasiness and guilt he had woken up with weigh on him. He squirts the shampoo into his hands and roughly shoves it into his hair, yanking it every which way. It feels like his frustration is rolling off of him in waves. How does someone mess up </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> badly in less than a six-hour time span?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once they had gotten home the night before, there was no real brain function going on. Betty had headed straight for the couch and passed out as soon as her body had hit the cushions. When he’d tried to wake her and get her into her bedroom at the very least, she’d just taken his hand and dragged him down with her. With the long night and alcohol still in his system, he’d passed out nearly immediately. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This morning, he’d woken up with a blinding headache pulsing against his skull and Betty’s lips pillowed on his chest, drool puddle soaked into his shirt. He’d let his fingers card through her hair, careful not to pull on the tangled strands. His moment of bliss had vanished as her soft, sleepy breaths fanning across his collarbone brought the memory of her lips trailing across his neck had been brought to his mind. Memories of her dazzling green eyes softening as she looks up at him come slamming back into his brain. Her moans in his ear when his mouth hit her neck echo through his head and the stupid male pride he’d felt seeing his traces in her messy hair while they sat in the circle with their friends sticks in his gut. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead slams the shower nozzle, stopping the stream and watching it drip to a stop. Sighing, he steps out and drags the towel across his skin, wrapping it around his waist. His thoughts are reeling and he has a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He’s wanted to tell Betty how he feels for so long and really, that explosive moment from last night has been a long time coming, but it wasn’t supposed to happen like that. Not when they were both drunk and doing it for some sort of twisted dare. It feels like everything he feels for her has been cheapened because of his rash impulses. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After wiping away the condensation on the mirror, he catches a glimpse of his bruise-littered neck through the streaky surface. His stomach does a weird lurch and he can't take his eyes away from the skin even though it’s the last thing he wants to see. There have been countless times where he’d thought about what it might be like to wake up with reminders of Betty on his skin. This is the last feeling he’d ever thought he’d have in this moment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hears shuffling in the kitchen and figures Betty must have finally woken up. He’d left some water and ibuprofen on the coffee table for her, assuming her headache would be just as bad as his, if not worse. Jughead pulls his t-shirt over his head, sighing when it does very little to cover up the marks on his neck. Dragging his feet, he finishes up in the bathroom, brushing his teeth for a minute longer than necessary. He even swishes with dental rinse when that’s usually only part of his nighttime routine. After looking around the steamed room for anything that might keep him in here for any amount of time longer, even considering Betty’s blow dryer, he decides to suck it up and face what’s ahead of him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he makes it into the kitchen, Betty isn’t there and he assumes she must be in her own room. He hopes she’s just going through her regular routine and not trying to hide from him, though he wouldn’t blame her, seeing as that’s exactly what he’s been doing for the past hour. Pulling out a package of strawberry Poptarts, he rips them open and tosses them into the toaster. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He starts a million and one conversations in his head, each one opening with a different variation of “I’m an absolute tool, please forgive me” and ending with “I’m so in love with you, I don’t know how I’m functioning without you knowing”. He’s muttering to himself and fiddling with the toaster when Betty finally comes into the kitchen. His heart seizes when he hears her soft footsteps. Jughead’s shoulders are tense. He can picture her staring at him with wide, gorgeous eyes, arms folded together, maybe even twisted up, hands clasped to her chest. If he turns around, she’ll give him a timid grin, and if she says anything to him, her voice will be the slightest bit raspy. He doesn’t want to turn around, can’t face her anger or worse, her disappointment or </span>
  <em>
    <span>even worse, </span>
  </em>
  <span>her disgust.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You wanna pop one in for me?” Her voice is exactly as he’d imagined. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It takes him a second to respond. “Sure.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty takes a spot next to him, and he sees her out of the corner of his eye grabbing her Central Perk mug from the cabinet and placing it under the Keurig, pressing the brew button. The rumbling of the coffee machine echoes in the chasm of uncertainty he feels between them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neither one of them asks how the other is feeling, neither one of them brings up the night before, neither one of them says anything that would hint at what they’d done. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They sit at the island munching on their Poptarts. Jughead trains his eye on the marble of their countertop. He wishes he were better at this kind of stuff. The silence is deafening. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wonders if her thoughts reflect his. There’s no sense in letting this hang between them. There’s never been anything they can’t talk about. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty’s voice breaks through his thoughts and hope fills his chest until what she’s saying sinks him right back into his head. “We should finish packing today so that we don’t have to stress tomorrow. The train leaves at eleven and I want to be able to spend the morning going over last minute details and relaxing before we have to head to my parents’.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead doesn’t say a word. He has no idea what to say. His mind has been on a totally different track and the abrupt change really throws him off. His eyes are drawn to the motion of her thumbs tapping against her phone. He catches her opening the messaging app on her phone but looks away, not wanting to intrude. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jug?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um.” Even to him, his voice sounds choked. “Yeah, that sounds great. I just have to—” His brain stalls. He can’t be here with her. He can’t face her when the guilt is building up inside of him. “I need to grab a few things at the store but, I’ll be set for tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead doesn’t wait for her answer, avoiding her gaze. He slips the shoes he’d left next to the door on and grabs his jacket. He’s out the door within a minute and he’s texting Veronica: </span>
  <b>I’m coming over. </b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Not bothering to knock, Jughead uses the key Veronica had given him when he watered her plants for the week she and Archie were in the Bahamas and lets himself into her apartment. He’d gotten into the building by ducking behind a resident heading out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Veronica, I’m moving into your spare bedroom.” He flops face first onto the couch, not bothering to see if she’s even in the room. He speaks into one of her ridiculously expensive pillows and thinks his cheap TJ Maxx pillow is much better for this purpose. “I can’t be an adult. Who let me be one. It was a horrible idea, like the worst one ever.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t believe you woke me up at eleven after the amount of alcohol I consumed last night.” Veronica’s voice gets louder as she speaks and he imagines she’s coming in from the kitchen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lifts up his head to see her take a seat at the other end of the couch, eye bags about as pronounced as his on a good day, and clutching a cup of coffee to her silk-robe-covered chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m a sorry excuse for a human being.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I could have told you that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead glares at her and she just shrugs, taking a sip from her mug. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not going to be nice to you, I’ve had too little sleep, not enough caffeine and too much of a hangover to hold your hand and make you feel better.” Jughead lets his head flop back into the pillow and lets out a scream. “What’s up, Jug?” Despite her previous words, Veronica’s voice softens at the question.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I fucked up bad, Ronnie.” He manages to sit up and Veronica’s eyes grow wide, glued to his neck. He groans and grips his collar up to his neck. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She really did some damage, huh?” Veronica smirks at him. “That’s hot.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He glares at her and Veronica shrugs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>God,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Veronica, how the hell did I let this happen?” He lets his head hit the back of the couch, grinding the heels of his palms into his eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know Jug, you weren’t the only one in that closet. Betty wouldn’t have done anything she didn’t want to do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>Betty</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Ronnie.” Jughead turns his head to look at her, clutching the stiff pillow to his stomach.  “She deserves so much more than a drunken makeout session. I just wish—” Jughead lets out a long sigh. “Why didn’t I tell her how amazing she was when we first met.? Why didn’t I ask her out </span>
  <em>
    <span>then</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re asking the wrong person, hermano, I told you to do it.” Jughead glares at her and Veronica readjusts her position, tucking her feet underneath her and faces him directly. “Listen, I know this isn’t how you planned it. I know you’ve been waiting to tell her how you feel for the right moment, but maybe this happened for a reason. You’ve been so in your head, waiting for that special time with the right lighting, the right star alignments,” Veronica waves her hand around in the air, “who even knows. But now, it’s obvious there's something between the two of you. It’s not so scary to admit that you love her.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead’s stomach flips. He squeezes the pillow tighter and stares at the massive clock above Veronica’s mantle. “We could’ve been dating this whole time, and I wouldn’t have to feel so shitty about what we did last night.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Veronica sets her mug down on the coffee table and lets out a sigh. “Okay, fine. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah</span>
  </em>
  <span>, maybe you could have been dating her this whole time, but would you know her as well as you do now, having been her friend and roommate?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead stares at Veronica, tilting his head to the side. “Um? Yes?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Veronica reaches over and smacks him. “If you’re going to be fresh, I’m going to kick you to the curb to whine to yourself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>, go on, oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>wise one</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Jughead puts his hands up in defense, rolling his eyes at her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you had dated Betty as soon as you met her, you might never have moved in with us, you wouldn’t have built a friendship with her. You’d know her in a totally different way. Not necessarily bad, but definitely different. When you and Betty start your relationship now—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead goes to cut her off to correct her assessment of their inevitable relationship, but Veronica lurches across the couch and puts a hand over his mouth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>When</span>
  </em>
  <span> you and Betty start your romantic relationship, it’ll be stronger because you know her as a friend.” She gives him a rare, soft smile. “Loving someone as a best friend can only help you to love them as a girlfriend. Don’t look at it as time lost, look at it as time you learned to love her differently. Now you know how to love her in every possible way. And </span>
  <em>
    <span>that,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Veronica removes her hand from his mouth and pokes him in the chest, “is what Betty deserves. Wouldn’t you agree?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Some of the tension that’s been building up leaves him when he laughs. Rubbing the back of his neck, he asks, “When did you get so good at relationship advice?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Veronica crosses her arms in front of her. “I started listening to Betty. It’s always the ones that are single that give the best relationship advice. Too bad you’re a turd and turned her brain to mush so she can’t think straight.” Veronica smacks him again when she calls him a turd.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead laughs. “There’s no way she’s as stressed about all this as I am. If Betty was in love with me, we wouldn’t be here, she’d have already told me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Veronica picks up her phone from the side table and shakes it. “Where do you think Archie is? You two are so predictable.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead tilts his head in confusion and Veronica smiles, continuing on with her explanation. “Archie’s with Betty now after getting an SOS text three minutes after I got yours. We’re both trying to set our dumb best friends straight.” Veronica reaches over and ruffles his hair and he swats her hand away. “Our girl is spiraling just as much as you are. You two idiots are so in love I don’t know how you’ve stayed away from each other for as long as you have.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nervous excitement replaces the dead weight of dread that’s been sitting in the pit of his stomach all morning. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like you said,” he shrugs, “we’re idiots.” Jughead feels a dopey smile stretch across his face, not caring that Veronica’s probably two seconds from making fun of him for it. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>After talking with Veronica for a little while longer, he shoots a text to Betty letting her know he’s on his way home. A few minutes later, he sends her another one: </span>
  <b>we really need to talk. can packing wait for a bit?</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her response is immediate: </span>
  <b>absolutely</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He smiles to himself, but as soon as he locks his phone, a call from JB comes through. She’s supposed to be on the road, headed to her girlfriend’s house for the holiday. He answers the call as he steps onto the subway. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s up, bean?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s hard to hear her voice, wind blasting past the speaker. “Hey, Jug! How are you this </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine </span>
  </em>
  <span>evening?’</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead rolls his eyes fondly, knowing she’s about to ask for something. “What do you need, Jellybean?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Way harsh, bro.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, if I hung up right now, you wouldn’t need anything? You’d be perfectly fine?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, maybe I need a place to stay tonight and maybe I’m already in the city.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What happened to going to Jade’s?” Jughead gets off at the next stop, waiting to figure out where exactly JB is.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She lets out a frustrated sigh. “It was snowing pretty hard where I was so my car broke down and I had to call Triple AAA. They need to keep my car overnight. I was closer to you than to Jade’s parents house so I hopped onto the commuter rail to get here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m guessing you have no idea where you are.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, absolutely none.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead laughs and shakes his head. “Alright, kiddo. Send me your location and I’ll be there soon. Hang tight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>It's dinnertime when he and JB get back to the apartment, and he doesn't want Betty to have to cook when she's trying to get ready for their trip. He texts her to let her know that he's picking up Chinese from the place down the street. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The three of them catch up over too much greasy food. JB fills them in on all the stories she hasn’t yet told them about her first year at college and Betty makes Jughead share the pizzelles she’d made him that day with his sister. He’s only a little mad about it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once they finish the Polar Express, Jughead gets Jellybean settled in his room, telling her he’ll take the couch. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jellybean throws her arms around him and squeezes tight. “Thanks for being here today,” she says into his shirt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead reaches up and runs a hand down her hair. “Of course, kiddo. I’m always here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She pulls back and gives him a wide smile. “I’m actually glad things worked out the way they did, I was really starting to get bummed about not seeing you for Christmas.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Me too. Goodnight, bean. See you tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he reaches the door, Jellybean calls out, “Hey Jug?” and when he looks back at her she rolls her eyes, “I pickle you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead lets out a soft chuckle. “I pickle you too, kid.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s something they’ve said since JB was four. She’d come home from preschool declaring that pickles held much more meaning than love because they were her very favorite food. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Closing his door, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before heading to Betty’s room to see if she’s still up for having that talk they’d agreed to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She’s sitting on her bed looking at something on her phone when he knocks against her open door. Her head snaps up and she offers him a small smile. “Come on in.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Taking a seat next to her, he immediately begins to ramble, looking at a spot on her comforter. “Hey, so I know I left a little abruptly this morning and apparently I’m just adding to the list of things that make me an asshole and I just want to apologize for­--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Betty grabs his hand to get him to stop talking. “You’re not an asshole, not in any sense.” She gives him a pointed look and he knows she’s talking about more than just leaving this morning. “Let’s just wait until tomorrow. It’s been a long day and I’m exhausted.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You sure?” He bends his head so he can look her in the eye. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She offers him a smile that softens her whole face. “Yeah. We’re good, Juggie.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We are?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course we are, you’re my best friend. We’ll always be okay.” She gives his hand a squeeze.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, okay.” He lets out a sigh, exhaustion hitting him like a dump truck. “I’m gonna take the couch.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he goes to stand, Betty  tugs on his hand to stop him from heading to the living room. “Don’t sleep on the couch again. You’re going to destroy your neck. Just sleep in my room. My bed’s big enough.” He looks at her skeptically, not wanting to start anything else when they haven’t even talked about the last big thing hanging between them. “Plus, it’ll be practice for being at my parents’, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead’s resolve slips, really not wanting to sleep on their couch again. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but we’re talking about everything bright and early.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her lips turn down into a disgusted scowl. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead laughs. “Okay, maybe bright and afternoon-ish.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>much </span>
  </em>
  <span>better.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They carry out their nightly routines in comfortable silence, dancing around one another with soft smiles. Betty takes the right side of the bed while Jughead takes the left. Betty pulls the covers up to her shoulders and rolls onto her side so she can look at him. Jughead imitates her position and smiles at the giddy look on Betty’s face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s like we’re in elementary school, having a sleepover.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead laughs, reaching out to brush a piece of her hair that had fallen in front of her eyes behind her ear. “You should have let me braid your hair, it would have been official.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty giggles and snuggles closer to him, her eyes already drooping after only a few minutes laying against her pillow. “Next time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead's heart thumps against his chest at the implication of those two small words. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he says softly, “next time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her eyes are closed and she doesn’t say anything more. Her breaths even out. Jughead leans over and brushes a kiss to her forehead. “Night, Betts,” he whispers. “I love you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He rolls over, back to her, and closes his eyes. Minutes later he hears Betty sigh and her weight settles at his back. Slowly he turns his head to see Betty, still asleep, nuzzled into him, her arm around his waist and knees tucked up into his own. Jughead smiles to himself. Taking her hand, he brings it to rest over his heart. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Within moments, he’s asleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She tells him everything. It’s as easy to talk to him as it is to breathe. Although, it’s the things that she feels most naturally that she can’t talk to him about. When he sticks his tongue out in concentration, her heart beats </span>
  </em>
  <span>I love you</span>
  <em>
    <span>. When a snort escapes him when he’s flustered, her heart beats </span>
  </em>
  <span>I love you</span>
  <em>
    <span>. When he looks at her like there’s no one else in the room, her heart beats </span>
  </em>
  <span>I love you</span>
  <em>
    <span>. But to tell him so would be to cross an ocean on foot.  </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thoughts? Are you mad? You can yell at me if you want lol I can take it</p><p>Only 3 more chapters to go!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. day 10: peanut butter kiss</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>HELLO! </p><p>I'm incredibly excited for you all to read this chapter!! I ended up reworking the last three chapter because the way I had it just didn't make sense for our lovely characters. I like it much better the way it's going!</p><p>EEEEEE! Happy reading!</p><p>rachel</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> peanut butter kiss cookies: </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ~ ½ cup granulated sugar </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ~ ½ cup packed brown sugar </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ~ ½ cup creamy peanut butter </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ~ ½ cup butter, softened </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ~ 1 egg </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ~  1 ½ cups all-purpose flour </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ~ ¾ teaspoon baking soda </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ~ ½ teaspoon baking powder </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> There aren’t many things I’d rather taste than peanut butter cookies, but your lips are at the top of the list. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Love, Betty </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ~~~ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Betty pulls the covers up tight around her shoulders and burrows deeper into her pillow, not yet wanting to welcome the brightness of the day. A jolt of energy runs through her body and her eyes pop open when she remembers she had had a bed mate the night before. With a small smile on her face, she reaches over and pushes her puffy comforter down to sneak a peek at what she hopes is a sleepy Jughead. </p><p> </p><p>The covers are tugged up, bed made halfway instead of  holding a warm, sleeping body, and her heart falls. She slumps back into her pillows and lets out a long sigh, blowing the hair out of her face. </p><p> </p><p>Yesterday, she had been in full panic mode when she’d woken up and he wasn’t there. She really started to spiral when he’d actually left the apartment. Thoughts of him hating her for pushing him into that closet and all but daring him to kiss her had been swirling around her brain non-stop. By the time Archie had gotten there, she had been shaking with guilt, thinking she’d destroyed their years of built up trust. What if he didn’t see her as his safe place anymore?</p><p> </p><p>After talking with Archie, she’d felt a lot better. In fact, she had been almost certain she and Jug would get to a point where they could at least admit some sort of feelings for one another. That is, until he’d sent her that text: <b>we really need to talk. can packing wait for a bit? </b>Then the spiraling began again. Archie had told her he was going to block her if she didn’t stop dissecting it like she was writing an essay for her high school English class. </p><p> </p><p>When Jughead got back with Jellybean, Betty had been overwhelmed with relief. The two of them had slipped into an easy routine, focusing on their guest. Selfishly, she had wanted to put off from talking about anything for as long as possible. Her sixty-three rereads of his text have made it clear that there is no way he wants to talk about getting into a real relationship. She’s seen this time and time again (in the movies, but close enough, right?), no one ever says they want to talk when they have happy news to share.</p><p> </p><p>So, rather than taking the adult route and actually allowing him to turn her down, Betty had instead offered to share a bed with him like a nitwit under the guise of friendship. Her stomach twists at the thought of having that conversation today.</p><p> </p><p>Throwing her arm over the pillow Jughead had used, she pulls it over her face, letting out a frustrated yell. She’s inundated with his smell, and she kicks herself for  melting back into the sheets at the scent. Chucking the pillow to the end of her bed, Betty grabs her phone off of her night stand. There’s a notification from Jughead from a few hours ago that lets her know he left to help JB get her car problem solved but he’ll be back in plenty of time to pack and catch the train. Her heart warms, knowing how much he hates waking up early. He’s such a good brother. When she catches the smiles on her face in the reflection of her phone, she groans.</p><p> </p><p>Rolling over, she shoves her face in her pillow and groans. “Why can’t he be an asshole?”</p><p> </p><p>Her temper tantrum is cut short when her phone pings with a message from Archie: <b>you ok after the big talk?</b></p><p> </p><p>Betty stares at the screen for a moment, considering lying to him that everything is great when another message comes in: <b>i didn’t get an excited text so im thinking it didnt go how you wanted</b></p><p> </p><p>And then another: <b>need some ice cream</b></p><p> </p><p>From Archie’s very first break-up, they’ve had a tradition of sharing a tub of Tonight Dough ice cream with their designated “i hate people” spoons (his a dump truck, hers a Hello Kitty spoon from the baby food aisle in Stop &amp; Shop) everytime one of them goes through a romantic trauma. </p><p> </p><p>Smiling, Betty taps out a response: <b>haven’t had the chance to talk yet</b></p><p>
  <b>put a hold on that ice-cream tho</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Archie laughs at her second text before sending one last message: <b>snows getting bad, might want to have the convo b4 ur stuck.</b></p><p> </p><p><em> Shit. </em> Betty hadn’t even thought to check the weather. Slipping out of her bed, she heads to the window and peeks between the blinds only to see large snowflakes floating past each window pane. The roads are covered in white fluff and it doesn’t seem like it’ll be letting up any time soon. </p><p> </p><p>Before she can get too worried about Jughead, she hears the lock on their front door turning and the door opening. She runs her fingers through her hair a few times as she steps out into the hallway. The thumps of his boots echo softly in the space. There are roughly thirty steps between her and the looming conversation. Taking a deep breath in and a deeper breath out, she takes a step further into the hallway. </p><p> </p><p>When Betty reaches the living room, she sees that he’s dusted in snow and is trying (and failing) to keep the snow from getting all over their floors. She skips forward and offers to take his coat so he can work on taking his boots off. He smiles at her in thanks and she thinks her legs might give out at how beautiful it is. Twirling around quickly, she has to consciously focus on walking at a normal pace to the bathroom to hang up his wet coat. </p><p> </p><p>While she’s throwing his coat over the shower rod, she hears him yell down the hall. “I’m making some hot chocolate, you want any?”</p><p> </p><p>In that moment, she sees the two of them sitting across from one another, mugs clutched in tense hands. The conversation will be filled with downcast eyes and reddened lips raw from the worrying of her teeth. </p><p> </p><p>“No, I’m good, thanks though.” It’s the coward’s way out, but she can’t do this. Betty absolutely cannot have this conversation with him right before they go to her parents’. It’s wrong and she knows it, but if he tries to turn her down, she won’t be in a place to hear or accept it. </p><p> </p><p>“How did everything go this morning?” She starts talking before she’s actually in the kitchen, trying to keep the conversation away from anything that pertains to a ‘them’. Betty takes a seat at their counter, putting enough space between them that she can make a quick get away if necessary. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” He seems a little shocked, but recovers quickly. “Good. There was nothing terribly wrong with the car, it’s just old and horrible in the snow. JB said she’d text me once she reaches their house.” He’s stirring the hot chocolate mix into his milk while he talks. She notes, gratefully, that he’s keeping her eyes away from her. “The storm seems to have passed that area and moved on to us. Hopefully the trains are still running when we’re ready to leave.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>His eyes lift to hers, confusion at her shortness evident in his eyes. “You oka—”</p><p> </p><p>“I think you should focus on packing. We can talk later, yeah?” Betty gets up from her spot and moves around him, getting a mixing bowl and a whisk out of the drawers. </p><p> </p><p>“Um, sure.” She can feel Jughead’s stare boring into the back of her head but she refuses to acknowledge it. “I’ll just take this with me, I guess.” Betty listens for his footsteps to disappear down the hall until his door clicks shut. </p><p> </p><p>Resting her hands on the edge of the counter, she lets her head fall and lets out an aggravated sigh.</p><p> </p><p>Her phone pings with a weather alert. The storm won’t be over until at least five tonight. <em> Perfect </em> . Her phone goes off once more, another text from Archie: <b>doesnt look like ur leaving today</b>. Attached is a picture of his TV displaying the news. All trains in and out of NYC will be delayed until tomorrow. </p><p> </p><p>Letting out a groan, Betty opens the cabinet in front of her and sticks the phone on the shelf, hitting  the FaceTime button. She looks at her peanut butter cookie recipe while she waits for Archie to pick up, grabbing the white and brown sugar as well as an egg. When he finally picks up, Betty doesn’t wait for him to even say hi. </p><p> </p><p>“What the <em> hell </em>am I supposed to do, Archie?” She breaks the egg in the bowl and throws the shell into the sink. </p><p> </p><p>“For starters, maybe be a little nicer to that egg,” he chuckles, but Betty only glares at him and he throws his hands up in defense. “Okay, okay, what’s up?”</p><p> </p><p>“Jug just got back, and like an absolute <em> twerp </em>, I cut off any chance of having a conversation because the idea of rejection is so terrifying that I can’t function like a normal, well-adjusted adult.”</p><p> </p><p>Archie presses his lips together like he does when he’s trying not to laugh. “Okay, I don’t really know what to unpack first. Where should we start?”</p><p> </p><p>“Archie!”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, first, take a deep breath. You’re going to break that wooden spoon and make some tree somewhere very sad.” Betty looks down and sees that he’s right. her knuckles are white and her spoon is in very serious danger. “Now, why is having this conversation with him so important?”</p><p> </p><p>Betty rolls her eyes. “We talked about this yesterday.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know that, but it seems like <em> you </em> forgot, so I need you to remind yourself.”</p><p> </p><p>Betty lets out a huff, blowing the loose hairs in her eyes away from her face. “Because it’s not fair to him to keep important details about certain feelings hidden due to the nature of our upcoming fake relationship.”</p><p> </p><p>“Good.” Archie’s teasing smile fades and his smile shows traces of concern. “Listen, I know this is really hard. I know you’re thinking of every possible scenario where he turns you down and makes the next week at your parents a living hell.” </p><p> </p><p>“Gee, thanks, Arch.” She finishes mixing together the wet ingredients of the cookies while Archie talks to her. </p><p> </p><p>“Betty, look at me.” </p><p> </p><p>Putting down the measuring cup with flour in exasperation, she brings her gaze back to the phone. </p><p> </p><p>“Tell me all the reasons why you want to be with him.”</p><p> </p><p>“You already know them all,” she grumbles, having had this conversation with him yesterday. Picking up the wooden spoon again, she begins to fold in the dry ingredients into the wet. </p><p> </p><p>“Okay, fine. Why did you decide to make him a different kind of cookie everyday? Why not just buy him chocolate or chapstick or pens—”</p><p> </p><p>Something snaps inside of her and she slams down the wooden spoon that’s in her hand onto the counter. “Because I love him, Archie!” she shouts, not able to keep it in anymore, desperately trying to get Archie to understand how much all of this means. </p><p> </p><p>A loud crash comes from behind her and a much softer question. “You love me?”</p><p> </p><p>Betty goes still.</p><p> </p><p> <em> Jughead. </em></p><p> </p><p>She clasps her hands together as she slowly turns around, clutching them to her chest. His suitcase is on the ground, clothes spilling from inside. He’s looking at her with what she can only describe as complete adoration. His expression is so soft, so open, that she nearly cries. She doesn’t want to keep it to herself anymore. She <em> can’t </em>keep it to herself anymore.</p><p> </p><p>Shrugging her shoulders, Betty lets her hands fall. “Yeah,” she sighs, “ I love you.” It comes out of her as easily as exhaling. It may as well have been the thousandth time she’s said it. </p><p> </p><p>His smile is so wide it looks like it damn near hurts. He’s rushing her instantly, wrapping her in a hug and spinning her around their kitchen. Her squeals echo through the room, mixing with his hearty laugh in a beautiful, chaotic melody. She looks down at him as he lowers her back onto the floor, wishing the distance between them would vanish. The loose tendrils of her hair fall into her eyes and tickle against his nose. “<em> God </em> ,” he says, her feet are on the ground once more, “I <em> love </em>you.” Jughead cradles her face in his hands, fingers gently caressing the skin underneath them like it’s forbidden. His touch is so careful she doesn’t dare breathe for fear he might stop. </p><p> </p><p>Her eyes drink up every inch of his face, wanting to memorize this moment, keep it as a painting in her mind. He seems so much lighter, his eyes seem to twinkle, and she can’t keep away from him any more. </p><p> </p><p>Closing the few millimeters between them, she feels his breath hitch moments before her lips meet his. Her eyes flutter shut and she melts into him. Her hands clutch at his waist, bringing him closer as one of his hands moves to hold her neck, thumb running along her jaw. It’s bewitching in every sense of the word.  </p><p> </p><p>His heartbeat thumps against her chest and she can feel it against her own, keeping perfect time. Her glee, unable to be contained any longer, spreads to her face, lips spreading into a smile, ending their kiss. Jughead holds her just as carefully, and she keeps her eyes shut, focusing on his touch, on their mingled breaths and the warmth radiating from her heart. Moving his lips to her forehead, he whispers the words into her skin once more. “<em> I love you.” </em> </p><p> </p><p>They stay there, neither one saying anything, just holding one another.</p><p> </p><p>“So,” a crackly voice reminds her the world is still spinning, “does this mean I can go?”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut up, Archie, just hang up like a normal person.” Veronica’s voice comes through the speaker, and Betty goes to turn around but Jughead’s fingers press against her cheek to turn her face back to his. He brings his mouth down to her again, but they’re both smiling too much to actually kiss. “It’s about damn time.” With that, there’s a distinctive tone, telling them the call has ended.</p><p> </p><p>“I think I agree with V on this one,” Betty whispers into his mouth. “It’s about <em> damn </em> time.” </p><p> </p><p>He wastes no more time, capturing her mouth once again, and everything else falls away. His hands move to her back, bringing her closer still and dipping her backward. His lips are unbelievably soft and it’s everything she’s ever craved. Her hands caress his face, trying to convince herself this is really happening, that it’s not a beautifully cruel dream. </p><p> </p><p>When his hand slides over her butt she breaks their kiss with a laugh, pushing on his chest lightly. “Okay, mister.” He pouts at her and she places a quick kiss to his lips. “We should probably actually have that conversation before things go further.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> I </em> love <em> you </em> , <em> you </em> love <em> me </em>.” He ducks his head to her shoulder, leaving feather light kisses to her skin that make her dizzy. “What more is there?”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Jug </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>His lips trail up her jaw, landing at her ear. “<em> Betts </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m serious, Juggie.” </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, so am I.” Betty pulls his face to eye level and gives him a pleading look. He finally cracks, dropping his arms from around her. “<em> Fine.” </em></p><p> </p><p>She grabs his hand again and tugs on it earnestly, leading him to their couch. “Thank you.” </p><p> </p><p>Jughead flops down and immediately drags her into his lap, threading his fingers through hers. “This is the only acceptable way to have this conversation.” He presses a kiss to her shoulder while Betty giggles and settles in, her back resting against the arm rest and her feet tucked into the seat cushion. </p><p> </p><p>“So, the first round of business. The closet.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah yes, the <em> closet </em>.” The hand not holding hers slides up her thigh and she smacks it away with an annoyed smirk. “No, but seriously.” He clears his throat and moves his hand to rest on her knee, rubbing circles into the fabric of her leggings. “I want to apologize for how far things—”</p><p> </p><p>Shocked, Betty sits up and grabs his face, searching his eyes. “<em> You </em> want to apologize? <em> I </em> want to apologize!” Her thumb swipes slowly across his cheek. “I basically forced you to kiss me when you were drunk. If anyone should be apologizing, it should be me.”</p><p> </p><p>“You forget my hand was completely up your dress when you were very much <em> not </em> sober.”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t forget.” Betty’s cheeks burn and she shifts her eyes to his shoulder. “Plus, it's not like I was mad it was there.”</p><p> </p><p>Jughead lowly chuckles. “Okay, so I’m thinking we’re both happy with how things were the other night, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m okay if you’re okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Smiling, he bumps his nose against her jaw. “I’m okay.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay,” she whispers. “I guess I also wanted to apologize for yesterday.” Her hand slides from his shoulder down to his chest. “I was spiraling pretty bad and was convinced you were going to try and let me down gently and I just couldn’t—” Betty looks up at the ceiling and sighs. Jughead squeezes her leg in support and her heart swells at his patience with her. “I didn’t want to face the fact I might have been loving you harder than you loved me.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s not possible,” he says, with a sweet smile. “But, I don’t want you to think you can’t talk to me about absolutely anything. Above all else, our friendship is my top priority, even if I have to sacrifice some kisses.”</p><p> </p><p>“Very noble of you, Jughead.” Betty giggles at his pinched up features and the way the words obviously leave a bad taste in his mouth. She brings a hand back to his face. “You weren’t yourself yesterday, you wanna tell me what that was about?”</p><p> </p><p>“I went through a similar spiral. I was worried I’d crossed a boundary that you hadn’t wanted and I was—” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’ve been waiting so long to tell you how I felt that I thought I blew it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I think that was a pretty spectacular way to tell me,” Betty shrugs and pokes at his cheek. “You know, if you were wondering.”</p><p> </p><p>Jughead chuckles. “And now the second round of business?” His lips find her neck and she loses herself in his touch. “What else, Betts?” he mumbles.</p><p> </p><p>“Our train is delayed until tomorrow.”</p><p> </p><p>Jughead pulls away and gives her a mischievous smile. “<em>Brilliant</em>. Now we don’t have to miss our train <em> on purpose </em>.” His hand moves up her thigh again although this time, she lets him. </p><p> </p><p>Dipping her fingertips into the top of the collar of his t-shirt, she brings her lips to his ear. “Whatever do you mean?”</p><p> </p><p>“I think maybe I should just show you.”</p><p> </p><p>With that, Betty’s nearly dumped off of his lap in his hurry to stand. Thankfully, he catches her around the waist and hoists her higher, and Betty wraps her legs around his hips, winding her arms around his shoulders. Dropping her forehead to his, she lets her breath fan across his face. </p><p> </p><p>“I think that’s a <em> brilliant </em> idea.” </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> The first time Violet had thought those three terrifying and liberating little words, Richard had been standing before his favorite painting. He’d left her across the room and she’d seen the painting how she believes it should always be viewed. Her favorite person, wiping away a tear at its beauty. His admiration only proved to encapsulate the meaning of art. He is her definition of art.  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>They did it!!!! I hope it's everything you hoped! I can't wait to see all of your reactions:) </p><p>(My betas kept leaving Bridgerton jokes in my comments and it had me giggling the whole way through. They ~burn~ for each other! And then I had the musical from tiktok stuck in my head the whole time I was editing. It was a *trip* let me tell you.)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. day 11: christmas crinkle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello, hello!</p><p>I'm back at school so things have been crazy and chaotic but I made it, we're here. This chapter is incredibly soft because I just couldn't help myself. They've waited for so long!! It's what they deserve!!</p><p>I hope you all are doing well and not suffering too much from Riverdale being back (I haven't watched it since like season 3 but Heidi keeps me updated). </p><p>I hope you enjoy!!!!</p><p>rachel</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>crinkle cookies: </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 1 cup unsweetened cocoa powder</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 2 cups white sugar</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ ½ cup vegetable oil</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 4 eggs</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 2 teaspoons vanilla extract</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 2 cups all-purpose flour</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 2 teaspoons baking powder</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ ½ teaspoon salt</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ ½ confectioner’s sugar</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When I’m falling apart and feel like everything is slipping through the cracks, you’re always there to keep me together.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And you’re a hot piece of ass.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yours forever, Betty</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~~~</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead rolls over into a faceful of Betty before his eyes are even fully open for the day. A lazy smile spreads across his face and he presses it against the skin of her shoulder, taking in a deep breath. Their legs are tangled beneath the sheets and his hand finds the bare skin at her waist, his fingertips running over as much of her as he can reach. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He lets his eyes flutter open slowly, taking in the unedited version of his favorite person. He sweeps away the tangle of curls strewn across her shoulder to uncover her neck, feathering kisses against the marks he’d made the night before. She lets out a long, contented sigh that lets him know she’s awake now too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Morning, beautiful,” he mumbles into the back of her neck. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty arches into him lightly and reaches back, slipping her fingers into his hair. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>God</span>
  </em>
  <span>, your morning voice is hot.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He chuckles, moving to press a kiss to her cheek. “It’s not like you haven’t heard it before.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She rolls over, pushing him into the sheets so she’s lying half on top of him. Her fingers trace his eyebrows, then down and over his lips. She gives him a sexy smirk that he absolutely adores. “Yes, but now I can tell you instead of internally screaming about it.” Betty leans down and places a soft kiss against his mouth.  When she begins to pull away from him, far too quickly for his liking,  Jughead pulls her closer with a hand on the back of her neck. Her entire body melts into him at the gentle pressure and his mind goes blank with bliss. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They make out lazily for a while, exploring the newfound freedom granted by their confessions. As soon as he starts to get a little handsy, Betty’s giggles break their kiss and she grabs at his hands to stop his movements. “We can’t,” she says, giving him a no nonsense look that’s kind of doing it for him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead rolls over her, trapping her hands in his instead and holding them against his chest. “Oh, but I think we can. Remember the whole ‘I love you’ thing? I think that means we can and we </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He ducks his head and starts trailing kisses along her collarbone. Betty seems to forget she had been trying to dissuade him moments before, releasing a soft moan when his teeth graze against her sensitive skin. When he makes his way lower, tracing the lacey border of her underwear, however, Betty seems to remember her previous objections. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” She grabs his face with both her hands and brings him back up so she can glare at him. Her eyes are still soft, shining a gorgeous sage green in the morning light. “Remember the whole ‘train to catch’ thing? We can’t miss it or my parents will kill us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your purpose in life is to make me miserable, isn't it?” He flops to the side, letting one of his arms hang off the side of her bed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My mother is already going to freak about us being </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> living together. Let’s not give her more to squawk about.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead lets out a resigned sigh and then looks up at her, sitting cross-legged next to him with the sheet clutched to her chest. “You’re going to need to put a shirt on then because I can’t think straight with you like that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She swats at him and his heart warms at the blush that colors her ears. Without another word, Betty turns her back to him and drops the sheet, leaning over to pick up his S t-shirt off of the ground and slipping it on. He catches her around the waist before she can make it off the bed and they fall into a heap of light, unabashed laughter. Betty leans into the kiss he presses to the side of her head and then dislodges herself from his grip. As she’s leaving the room, she peeks over her shoulder at him as if not believing he’d be looking after her, and bites her lip when their eyes meet. His heart nearly skips a beat at the soft smile caged by her teeth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It hasn’t even been a full 24 hours since they’d finally revealed what’s been hovering between them for years now and he already can’t imagine life without her like this. He relishes in all the new little facts he’s been able to collect about her in just a short time. Jughead knows the exact spot on the base of her back to brush his fingers against to make her melt into him. He knows her nose scrunches up when she’s first coming into consciousness in the morning. He knows how icy her toes get in the middle of the night. His favorite part about all these revelations, as little as they may seem, is that even after their years of friendship, they mean that there’ll never be an end to uncovering new facts about Betty. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When she comes back into the room, Betty is holding a plate of chocolate crinkle cookies, but he’s only momentarily distracted by the treats until he catches the wide smile she’s giving him over the plate. The sun streams into the room and illuminates the flyaway hairs of Betty’s messy bun, making her look incredibly soft. Jughead’s stomach flips at the sight and her smile spreads to his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you ready for your second to last day of cookies?” she asks, carefully balancing the plate in her hands as she climbs onto the bed, folding her legs beneath her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead leans over and takes the carefully written note off of the top of the pile. “I have to read my favorite part of the gift first.” Looking down, the beautiful red cursive he’s come to expect is at the top, but the second part of her note, scrawled in black ink, looks like it was a last-minute addition. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A snort escapes him when he reads the words. Under the sentimental lines she’s added: </span>
  <b>And you’re a hot piece of ass</b>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He takes a cookie from the pile and gestures it towards Betty before he takes a bite. “I knew you were only in this for my body.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She rolls her eyes at him and takes a cookie herself, only instead of eating it, she tosses it at him so the cookie splats against his cheek and he sees a little cloud of powdered sugar. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You really thought I was into the whole grumpy old man personality? You might be a tad delusional. Have you seen what you look like in a sweater? Of course I’m in it for your body.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead glares at her as she throws her head back in a laugh, placing the plate on her night stand and crawling back over to him. Bringing her thumb to his cheek, she brushes the sugar away and places a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Haven’t you been paying attention? I’ve been telling you all the reasons I love you for the past eleven days. ”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead’s eyes widen and he peels them away from Betty to stare at the half-eaten cookie in his hand like it holds all the answers. When Betty giggles, her breath fans across his faces and a smile spreads across his face. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Of course she did</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thinks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sliding his fingers not holding the cookie into her hair, he leans forward and presses a solid and consuming kiss to her soft lips. Her fingers trace up his arms and up his neck until she’s pulling him in even closer and a wave of complete adoration washes over him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keeping his eyes closed, he pulls back just enough to end the kiss, whispering into her mouth, “I completely and utterly adore you, Betty Cooper.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He feels her smile against his lips and she nudges his nose with her own, prompting him to open his eyes. He takes in the freckles that litter the bridge of her nose, ones so small he’s only just noticed them in the last day. He loves them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m actually kind of surprised you never said anything about it. Usually you’re right on top of things like that.” Betty seems to be trying to memorize everything she’s never seen before as well because her eyes float across his face as her thumb skims across his cheek as she speaks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shrugs with a soft chuckle. “I was a little preoccupied trying to confess my own love for you through my vignettes. I think I was so consumed with wanting you to figure it out and also not at the same time that I never even considered that you’d be doing the same thing.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty pulls back, her eyes comically wide. “You’re kidding.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shakes his head and pops the rest of the cookie he’s been holding into his mouth before reaching down to grab the pile of his vignettes on Betty’s night stand. He plops them on the bed and picks up the first one, tilting it towards her. “This one, about the museum? That’s the time you brought me to the Met the first year we were living together. It’s the moment I realized I was in love with you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty takes the paper from him, her eyes devouring every word, mark and space on the page. The loops and curves of each letter spelling out her own love story right in front of her eyes. “So,  Richard—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The person filled with endless sunshine and the hero of Violet’s story? Yeah, he’s you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty seems to have a hard time tearing her eyes away from the words in front of her, but when she does, there are tears in her eyes and a pink flush on her cheeks. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Jug</span>
  </em>
  <span>—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead shrugs and gives her a lopsided smirk. “I wasn’t going to swap the genders at first, but I was too afraid you’d figure it out before I could process that fact that I was actually telling you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty gently places the collection of his words on the floor before throwing herself at him. They tumble together onto the bed once again, Jughead’s arms instinctively winding around her waist to hold her close. She’s holding his face and pressing kisses across his skin, ending with a sweet peck to his nose. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Even if I had an entire lifetime, I don’t think I could come up with the words to tell you just how much I love you, Jughead Jones.” Her eyes are holding his with a quiet intensity and he knows he’d be content if this is the only view he gets for the rest of his life.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I don’t have any other plans. What do you say? We could use that lifetime to come up with the words together.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The radiant smile that’s so unequivocally Betty spreads wide across her face. “That sounds like a marvelous idea.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Jughead rubs his thumb over Betty’s jean-clad shin, her legs crossed and propped up in his lap. They had gotten to the train station ten minutes late thanks to Jughead’s kisses and other distractions. Thankfully their train had been delayed by fifteen minutes, so they were technically five minutes early, a fact that Betty did not appreciate when he had mentioned it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They settle into their seats across from one another, sharing the space with all the luggage they had stuffed full. The brilliant idea had come from Betty: no one else will sit with them and force them into tense and unwanted small talk if there’s nowhere to sit. She usually likes to hear about strangers’ journeys and the stories they come with, so he knows she suggested it for him. He doesn’t know exactly what he put out into the universe to get to love such a woman, but he’ll take it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty’s staring out the window watching the snowy scenes pass her by, a soft look across her features. He hates to replace her serene look with the one of dread that he knows is coming with his question. “So,” he squeezes her leg which brings her attention back to him, “what’s our plan going into the war zone?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty giggles and scrunches her nose. “I was going to tell you you’re dramatic but I don’t think you’re far off. Honestly? I’m trying not to think about it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m just hoping your dad opens the door first. He’s always liked me so maybe he’d protect you from your mother.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Juggie.</span>
  </em>
  <span> My mom likes you too, she just never learned how to actually show how she’s feeling. Though disappointment is one emotion she’s managed to nail pretty well,” Betty says with an eyeroll.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, she might like me as best friend and roommate Jughead, but boyfriend and roommate Jughead? That’s a whole other ball game.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty slips her feet from his legs and leans forward, raising an eyebrow up at him. “Was that sport reference, Jughead? Who am I dating?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead mirrors her position, their knees touching and their faces inches apart. “See how it’s the vaguest reference I could make?” He leans further and nips at her jaw. “You know exactly who you’re dating.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Giggling, Betty shies away from him and pushes his face away from her. “Don’t start. I don’t need public indecency marring my crystal clear record.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was just kissing you. Innocent little kisses. If you can’t control yourself around me, that’s on you, not me.” He shrugs and crosses his arms, leaning back into his seat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He can’t help the satisfied smirk that settles it’s way onto his face at her pink ears. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty glares at him. “Behave yourself and we won’t have a problem. You’ll demote yourself right back to roommate.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’d never. Me in a burgundy sweater holds too much power.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty kicks her converse off before settling feet into his lap once more and pushing her socked foot into his cheek. “Shut your mouth, mister.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m an English teacher, Miss Cooper. We’re known for rambling.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then ramble about Jane Austen or something. At least then I could objectify you properly.” She’s looking out her window again, waving her hand at him, looking disinterested. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Weren’t you the one that told me to behave myself?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty just shrugs and continues to watch the passing scenes. Jughead frowns and makes little patterns on her arch, making her wiggle foot as she tries to get out of his way. When he doesn’t stop, Betty looks over at him, irritation crowding her features. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can I help you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>bored</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Betty.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looks at him for a second before melting into laughter. “You’re ridiculous.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They shuffle around their luggage so Betty can tuck into Jughead’s side and they both peer out the window, pointing out different trees and houses along the way. Jughead comes up with backstories for all the trees that he feels has a story to tell and Betty interjects with important colorful details he would have never thought of. They fog up the glass and trace silly patterns and hearts with their initials in the middle like lovesick teenagers. Her laugh rings through his ears and feeds his heartbeat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When they’re about fifteen minutes out from the Cooper’s, he tucks his hands into his pockets, double checking he has everything so it’s not a frantic scramble when they pull into the station. His hands brush against something soft and he’s hit with memories from a week ago. Slowly, he pulls out the couples’ mittens Betty had been so violently against at the mall. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Being jostled by Jughead’s movements, Betty lifts her head from his side and looks over to see what he’d desturbed her comfort for. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She lets out a groan. “Tell me I’m hallucinating.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead turns to her, holding out the mittens proudly, and beams at her. They’re an awful army green with gaudy purple hearts wrapping all around. To put it nicely, they’re the most hideous article of clothing he’s ever seen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tell me you didn’t spend money on those.” Betty looks up at him, a pleading look in her eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead slips his right hand into it and holds it out for both of them to look at. “I could tell you that, sure.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t even know what to say to you.” Her eyes are glued on the mitten, mouth twisted into a disgusted grimace.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead looks down at her, smirking in mischief. “Share the mitten with me, Betty.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought I told you the love of my love would know better than to own those.” She points to his hand quickly and then brings her hand back to her chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead offers her the half-empty mitten, his hand waiting for hers inside. “The love of your life is a little stupid.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty drops her head back on the seat and lets out a defeated breath. Jughead wiggles his fingers and Betty giggles, her resolve slipping completely. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She slides her hand into the mitten and links their fingers. “Then I’m a little stupid with him.” She tilts her head up and presses a chaste kiss to his lips. “Sweat all over my hand, baby.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Violet traces her finger across the bare skin of Richard’s back, connecting the moles and painting her love onto her empty canvas. What once was just his, is now a mingle of them, a new story. Her favorite painting doesn’t hold a candle to the art they’ve created together and will continue to create. </span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>They're in LOVE!!</p><p>Only one chapter left to go!! I have a sort of, maybe(?) unexpected ending planned so I hope it's everything you didn't know you needed. </p><p>Let me know how you liked this chapter! See you next time fellas:)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. day 2202: sugar cookies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>HELLO!</p><p>I won't make you wait any longer! I hope you enjoy the direction I chose to take the last chapter! I can't wait to hear your thoughts!</p><p>(Also, I'm really behind on comments, but I've been reading them all and I adore each and every one. I loved getting emails when some of you were leaving comments as you binged, it was very fun!)</p><p>Okay have fun!!</p><p>rachel</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>roll-out sugar cookies</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 24 tablespoons unsalted butter, room temperature</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 2 cups sugar</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 2 large eggs plus 2 egg yolks</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 4 teaspoons vanilla extract</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 2 teaspoons almond extract</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 5 cups of all-purpose flour</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 1 teaspoon salt</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ 1 teaspoon baking powder</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You give the best hugs in the whole wide world.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Love, </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Your little family</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~~~</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>6 years later</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~~~</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And so, that ends our epic love story.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead’s wife gives a small shake of her head.  “I wouldn’t say that’s the end. You haven’t even gotten to the best parts yet!” Slowly closing the periwinkle cover of his book, Betty runs her hands along the spine and then hugs it to her chest. She looks up to where he’s sitting on the arm of the couch in her parent’s livingroom, and a soft smile overtakes his face as he looks down at her.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, that’s the end of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>beginning </span>
  </em>
  <span>of our epic love story.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Much better.” Betty reaches up, bringing his face down for a tender kiss. “I’m so proud of you, Jug. It’s beautiful.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He smiles, thinking of all the nights she had read each page, reminding him that his words were worth sharing.  Running his thumb across her cheek, he says, “Couldn’t have gotten here without you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pulling back from him, she pages through the book once more, and he watches her eyes skim over the pages yet again. “Putting each of the vignettes as their own chapter between chapters was brilliant.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know if I’d say </span>
  <em>
    <span>brilliant,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he says with a shrug. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She glares up at him, her jaw set. “It was brilliant.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He laughs at the defiant look on her face. “Well, how can I argue with that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just then, there’s a loud slam of the door in the kitchen followed by a chorus of giggles and shuffling of winter coats. The slapping of small feet echoes through the hallway until their little ball of energy bursts into the living room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wendy is all Jughead on the outside, with her unruly dark curls and piercing blue eyes, but her personality is all Betty. She’s unfairly sweet and full of life, ready for an adventure at every turn. At just three years old she’s got so much personality, rivaling even Veronica. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She bumbles in, knocking into the furniture in her way to get to them, bouncing off corners like only a toddler can. Jughead leans down and sweeps her up into his arms before she can crash into the coffee table and knock out a tooth. Her little hands immediately find his cheeks and squish, her fingers acting like icicles against his skin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s cold!” Her eyes are intense and full of blissful wonderment as they stare into his. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead shakes his head lightly, trying to dislodge her icy hands from his face. No luck. “Thanks for sharing that with me, kiddo.” His sarcasm flies over her head and she just beams at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you build a snowman outside with Aunt Jelly?” Betty pulls her attention away, but her hands stay in place. Wendy’s feet swing by Jughead’s sides, one foot bare and the other covered in a fishy sock. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mmhmm! He’s big!” Her arms fly up, hitting Jughead’s chin, and then stretching as wide as they’ll go. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks for that one, pal.” Jughead mutters, and, hearing Betty’s giggle, glances down to see her covering her mouth with her hand. “Yeah, yeah, laugh at the old man getting beat up. It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>hilarious</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty rolls her eyes at him and smacks his thigh. “Jug, you’re not even thirty yet.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah well—” he doesn’t get a chance to finish his thought since Wendy nearly launches herself out of his arms when Alice walks into the room. His body protests at the sudden movement to make sure his daughter doesn’t end up face first on the floor. </span>
  <em>
    <span>And Betty says he’s not an old man. Okay</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Once Wendy’s feet hit the ground, she’s running into the older woman’s arms. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gamma!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My darling girl!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If someone had told him this is how Christmas would look 6 years ago, that very first day Betty had brought him home, he’d probably have mumbled something about not mocking his pain in their general direction. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Betty, you cannot be serious. You are dating a man you </span>
  </em>
  <span>live </span>
  <em>
    <span>with. What are you thinking?” Alice's piercing whisper snakes through the door as Jughead tries to dissociate while staring up at Betty’s glow-in-the-dark star stuck ceiling. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“</span>
  </em>
  <span>I </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t be serious? Mom, I’ve literally been living with him for </span>
  </em>
  <span>years</span>
  <em>
    <span>.” He knows Betty’s eyebrows are pinched into an intense furrow and her hands are waving around in front of her. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes but now...now you’re</span>
  </em>
  <span>—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m what? Happy and in love?” He smiles to himself, and feels his heart pitter patter against his chest.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh don’t be silly. You can’t possibly love him.” He frowns, his own eyebrows pinching up in disbelief.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“And why not?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Because, like you said, you’ve been living with him for years and you only just figured out you loved him? I don’t see it, Elizabeth. Once this little </span>
  </em>
  <span>thing</span>
  <em>
    <span> has run its course, you’re going to be scrambling for a new roommate because everything has imploded thanks to this moment of fun.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Why can’t you just accept that I’ve made this choice for myself and that I’m happy? I don’t care if this ends in disaster, because being with him is worth it.” He hears Betty exhale and it’s then that he realizes he’s holding his breath. “You know what? We’re gonna head back to New York. It was great seeing you. Ten minutes is a new record, huh?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He sits up and weighs how much trouble he might get in for eavesdropping, but decides he needs to step in. Betty’s family might drive her mad sometimes, but he knows how devastated she’ll be if they aren’t together for Christmas. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Opening the door, he sees Betty and Alice mirroring each other, looking scarily alike, wearing the same frustrated scowl. He goes over to Betty, his back to Alice as he runs his hand down her arm and laces their fingers together. Her whole body relaxes at his touch. “Hey,” he says softly. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Betty’s eyes drag away from her mother and when she finally meets his eyes, he can see the hurt behind all of the frustration. He offers her a small smile. “We aren’t going back to New York, Betts.” He holds her gaze for a moment before turning to Alice. “I understand why you’re upset, Mrs. Cooper. I don’t agree with you, and I’d like to point out that Betty is an adult who is fully capable of making good decisions for herself, but, that said, I will gladly head back to New York if it means that Betty is able to spend Christmas with you all.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Betty tugs on his arms and starts to protest but before she can get too far, Alice squints at him and says, “Okay, Jughead. You can stay </span>
  </em>
  <span>if</span>
  <em>
    <span> you answer this one question correctly.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Mom!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Alice ignores Betty and stares down Jughead as she asks, “Who killed JonBenet Ramsey?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Answering without missing a beat, he says, “It was her brother, the family clearly covered the whole thing up.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He glances at Betty and she gives him a panicked look like she has no idea what’s going on. The silence carries on as Alice regards him. They hold each other’s gaze for much longer than is comfortable. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Excellent. You can stay. Come Jughead, you can be my taste tester.” Without another word, Alice turns on her heel and heads down the stairs towards the kitchen.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jughead just looks after her, mouth agape, not believing he just won over his girlfriend’s mother with true crime trivia. Betty brings his face to hers, smiling up at him in a way that makes him want to be able to physically hand her his heart. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Just as her lips are about to meet his, Alice’s voice calls up. “Are you coming or not?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Since then, she’s treated him like her own son and he couldn’t be more grateful to Alice Cooper for taking him and his sister into her family. He and Betty try to get up to see her and Hal at least once a month and make sure to give them weekly call between them. She’s the only one who will ever be able to get him to read trashy romance and he won’t admit it, but he doesn’t hate their monthly book chats. What he does hate, though, is when one of his brat students finds his book and decides to comment about it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We have some serious business to take care of.” Alice grabs Wendy’s hand and wiggles it. “Do you know what time it is, young lady?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Squeals escape the three-year-old before words do. “Cookie time!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There go the eardrums,” Jughead whispers under his breath while he rubs his ear, earning another smack from his wife. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alice tells Wendy to go see JB who’s setting everything up in the kitchen. Jughead takes his book from Betty and places it on the coffee table as she gets off the couch. They head over to Alice, giving her greetings and hugs of their own. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She pulls back from him and surveys his face.  “Jughead, you shaved for me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He smirks. “Only for you, Mama Coop.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s a good boy.” Alice pats his cheek and heads into the kitchen herself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead places a hand on Betty's back as they too follow the others, she looks up at him with a smile. “You know, I think she loves you more than me sometimes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shrugs. “Yeah, that’s normal. You would think you’d be used to it by now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There are icicles outside, I could murder you and there would be no evidence left behind.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead leans down and breathes into her ear. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s hot</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s rewarded with giggles and presses a kiss to her temple. Wendy runs back over to them, dressed in an elf apron that matches Alice’s, and grabs both their hands, dragging them over to the island. She drops Betty’s hand so she’s standing in front of the frosting station and then drags Jughead as far as she can from all the baking ingredients. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You sit here, Daddy. No hurting cookies here.” She gives him a big toothy grin and then runs to Betty’s side, flinging her arms around her legs. He wants to be offended, but they had all decided a long time ago that Jughead’s special purpose is taste testing and taste testing only. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“They don’t look like Mommy’s.” Wendy sits on the stool in front of him, staring accusingly at the burnt Pillsbury image cookies on the cookie sheet in front of them. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jughead picks one up and taps it on the counter. “Looks like the cookies beat us this time, pal.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>For the past two days, Betty’s been in bed sick with a cold and Wendy had wanted to make her cookies to make her feel better. Jughead hadn’t had it in him to tell her that the baking genes were solely on her mother’s side of the family.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Daddy, I think you hurt them.” She’s looking down at the black heart cookies, absolutely heartbroken.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dropping the cookie, Jughead brushes his hands together and puts his hands on his hips. “Why don’t we go get some flowers instead? Mommy loves flowers.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The cookies already forgotten, Wendy nods her head so fast he thinks it might fall off if she doesn’t stop soon. “Yellow!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He smooths a hand over one of her two pigtails and nods his head towards the door with a smile. “Good choice, pal. Let’s go.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>After the girls get the cookies all mixed together and into the oven after only one egg-and-over-eager-toddler mishap, JB leaves to call her girlfriend. Betty takes a spot on his lap while Wendy dances around the kitchen with Hal, who had come home halfway through their baking, to the horrendous Justin Bieber Christmas album that Veronica had gotten her for Christmas. She had told Wendy it was vintage and that it was Jughead’s favorite. Needless to say, it’s been on ever since and Jughead simply wants to die.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As much as it pains him to say, this isn’t even the worst gift she had gotten from their friends this year. Since Wendy is the only child in their friend group, their yearly gift exchange extravaganza had slowly turned into who could buy the biggest, loudest, most irritating gift for Wendy. Veronica and Archie are her godparents, but there’s constant war over who the toddler's favorite aunt or uncle is which leads to lots of gifts that Betty and Jughead would gladly throw out the window. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Where’s the little booger?” Reggie bursts into the Andrews’s apartment with a pink barbie jeep balanced on his shoulder. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Uncle Reggie!” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Looky here, Uncle Reggie bought you your very first car!” He sets the plastic Jeep down in front of her and she stops in her tracks, eye wide, trying her hardest to take it all in at the same time. Slowly her hands come up to the giant red bow at the top and she pats it, a smile overtaking her face until she erupts into happy squeals. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jughead slaps Reggie on the shoulder. “Thanks, Reg. It’s almost like this’ll take up our entire living room. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’ll make for great room decor.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Once they had gotten it home, they realized that the Jeep fortunately didn’t take up half of their living room. No, instead, it took up Wendy’s entire bed, and she slept on the floor after three hours of them trying to get her to put her Jeep literally anywhere else. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Betty rests her head on his shoulder and his hand skims along her back as they listen and watch their headstrong girl tell her grandfather all about her favorite ocean book and all the new facts she’s learned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know what I was just thinking?” Betty asks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hums in questions. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Francesco is going to need to add another family picture to the wall pretty soon.” Her hand comes to rest against her still flat stomach and he smiles into her hair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Back when they had first started dating, they’d make Francesco’s pizza place “their place”. Pretty soon, Francesco had made them a part of his family and they have their very own section of the wall. There’s a picture of them from their one year anniversary with a heart shaped pizza, one with Wendy as a baby having her first “Francesco’s finest”, and the latest one of them all trying to make pizza, flour and sauce covering their faces. There are a dozen other special moments from the years hung up along his wall. Adding another little nugget to their crew just meant more pictures. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You ever thought about how crazy everything turned out? Like, everything just kinda fell into place,” Jughead whispers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty sits up, resting a hand on his face. “It’s cause it was meant to be.” She skims her thumb along his cheek and he leans into her touch. Smiling, she rests her head back onto his shoulder. “Our life is pretty wonderful.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Except for the fact that you ruined my kid with a love for STEM,” he grumbles. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She actually gets off his lap at that and gives him an offended look. “Excuse me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead crosses his arms and shrugs his shoulders. “She never wants to listen to any of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span> literature I try to read to her before bed. She only wants that dumb book about plankton. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Plankton</span>
  </em>
  <span>, baby. What three-year-old wants to listen to National Geography before bed?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Betty smirks at him, resting her hands on his thighs and leans in close. “Jug, you tried to read her </span>
  <em>
    <span>Catcher in the Rye</span>
  </em>
  <span>. What did you expect?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, </span>
  <em>
    <span>well</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Glancing down at her stomach, Betty smiles. “Who knows, maybe this one will pop out calling you ‘Old Sport’.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead laughs, uncrossing his arms and reaches forward, pulling her between his legs and hugs her close. “Any baby with you is going to be way cooler than I ever was or will be, even if they do like STEM instead of English.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe we’ll have a whole little army of engineers.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead gives her a wry look. “Okay, if you get an army of engineers, I want one book-loving kid. Just one. That’s all I’m asking.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Deal.” She runs her fingers through his hair and places a soft kiss to his lips. “Speaking of, what do you think your next book will be about?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jughead looks over her shoulder at his wild little girl spewing sunshine from her smiles and then looks back at his gorgeous wife with a smile of his own. “Whatever adventure is waiting for us tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Love Comes Through Sunshine</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By: J. Jones</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>To Betty, who taught me what it is to love and be loved.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And to my little Wendy darling, who only made that love grow. </span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>WAHH so we're here! We made it! It's the end and they're happy! </p><p>Thank you all for the love on this story and being just as excited as I was about it. This whole process has been so fun and I'm kind of sad to see this story end. (Though, I'm kind of in love with this little universe so I wouldn't say no to revisiting). Anyway, I really hope you liked the ending and can't wait to hear your thoughts!</p><p>Much love to you all! Feel free to come say hi on tumblr: ithoughyoulikedmereckless!</p><p>Until next time, friends:)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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